Once a Soul
by Renji's Girll
Summary: With the Winter War over, the victors seek to resume a normal life. Some need more help adjusting than others. Orihime finds the past catching up with her. Yes, OrihimexRenji
1. Summer

The finish line was only a straightway away, but Orihime's lungs were already burning. The one kilo run seemed to get longer every year during gym class, and the summer heat was making each lap longer. She pushed herself on, knowing trying to catch Tatsuki ahead was futile.

"A little more," she panted, forcing her weary legs faster, her chest heaving with exertion. The afternoon sun gleamed onto the track, making her damp t-shirt cling to her with every breath.

Ahead, Tatsuki crossed the finish line and turned to wave Orihime on. "Come on, 'Hime! You can do it!"

Orihime pushed herself on, taking the last few meters at a slightly brisker pace. She slowed to a walk after she crossed the panted finish line on the track, breathing heavily as Tatsuki patted her back.

"Ha! You did it!"

The both looked to their classmate with the broken arm in a sling who was keeping times at the side of the track. She glanced to her clipboard and nodded, looking to Orihime.

"Sorry; seven seconds slower than last time," she told her. She marked the time on the chart beside Orihime's name on the clipboard. "Twelve seconds faster, Tatsuki."

The black-haired girl beamed.

"Ughh!" Orihime sighed, trying to catch her breath that eluded her. She put her hands on her hips and walked with Tatsuki across the field back to school as the last few classmates finished their run. "What's wrong ... with me, Tatsuki?" she said between gasps. "Uh, I think I ... ate too much for lunch."

Tatsuki nodded, breathing slower. "Maybe it was just the wrong combination of foods."

Orihime gave her a confused look and used both hands to tighten the ponytail at the back of her head. "Mm? Maybe so."

They crossed the field and went back into the school building to change for the walk home. Orihime didn't want to put her school uniform back on, not when her face was still glowing bright pink and her lungs ached with every inhale. But she did.

Within twenty minutes she and Tatsuki were back on the street, this time taking the sidewalk home. It had been six months since the end of Soul Society's Winter War with Aizen, and the once-threat was becoming a very bad memory for most shinigami and Living involved. The school year was giving way to summer, but even with all the homework and advancement of grades into Orihime's last year of school, nothing replaced memories of what had happened to so many during those months of turmoil.

"Do you miss him?" Tatsuki asked with unusual delicacy even for her in the last few months.

Orihime hugged her book closer. It wasn't homework – school would go on break in another day – but she wanted to keep up with her studies, and to distract herself. She automatically looked to the far end of the next street where Rukia stood in one of Urahara's latest gigais. She glanced back to see Ichigo wave to the petite shinigami as he jogged to meet her.

Orihime shrugged. "We're still friends, Tatsuki," she said with a sigh, a dull ache in her chest over her heart. "We always will be. I just have to accept some things."

Tatsuki shook her head as they hurried down the busy, sweltering street. "I meant Uryuu."

The auburn-haired girl forced a giggle. "Oh, yes... We're friends, too. You know how he's been lately." She looked to a side street where Uryuu Ishida's slender form was walking quickly away. A different twinge of sadness lent her voice. "He's determined to regain his Quincy heritage, even if his father isn't interested. Maybe there will be time for us together later, right?"

Tatsuki raised an eyebrow at the retreating form of Uryuu. "He can't be your boyfriend _and_ a Quincy at the same time?" She shrugged, batting a bee away that buzzed near them. "He should make time, 'Hime."

Orihime nodded only a little. "You know how training is, Tatsuki," she said with a sigh that made her chest catch in a sudden stop. She let her breath out more slowly. She perked up, smiling fuller at her friend. "Hey, you've got time for ice cream tomorrow before you head off to the karate workshop, right?"

Tatsuki shook her head immediately, eyes glinting at the thought – of the martial arts study. "Sorry. Yesterday was my last ice cream for a month."

Orihime groaned with genuine pain. "I'd die without ice cream for a whole month."

* * *

The day dissolved into a muggy evening for late July, the sun sinking into Karakura Town's haze of dusk that made every air conditioning unit whine to high. Orihime suffered in solitude. The small apartment was too warm and her oscillating fan was whirring on the top gear, but doing little to cool the few rooms.

As a last resort, she took a cool shower and pulled on a loose camisole and shorts, wishing the lavender nylon material was even thinner. She wiped the light fog from the bathroom mirror. Her tepid shower hadn't steamed up the mirror, but it was enough moisture to make her image blurry. She pushed her damp hair from her face and wiped down the mirror.

Her somewhat distorted image stared back at her.

The throbbing in her chest from her one kilo run at school was still with her, sucking the air from her lungs, compounding the already thick air that hung over the oppressively humid town. She took a deep breath, a movement that made a sharp pain prick in her chest.

She took a slower breath this time, and then stared wide-eyed at the mirror.

At first it looked like a trick from the overheard light of the mirror. She frowned and wiped the mirror with the towel, and took a careful breath.

Beneath the thin lavender camisole a hint of shadow spread near the inside of her left breast. She pulled the collar to one side a little and leaned closer to the mirror. It wasn't a bruise, she decided. Just a darker area.

She put her palm to it, pressing gently.

Instantly she felt the skin beneath it give way, a dull pain seeming to collapse under her skin. She took her hand away and let her fingertips draw across the area.

The shadow remained, about the size of an egg yolk. She switched the overhead light on to full power.

The skin at her chest didn't look any paler in the better lighting.

She put her hand back over the spot. Her heart was beating faster, but she assumed that was because she was frightened, and growing more so by the moment.

"That's what the body does," she murmured to her reflection, who was just as alarmed as she was. "A natural response to anxiety." She rubbed her fingers across the shadowed patch. It didn't go away. It didn't change to a bruise, or sink farther into her; it just stayed. And ached.

She switched the light to dim, letting her camisole collar hang. For a long she stared at the spot of skin.

She shook her head, reining in her imagination.

"A trick of lighting," she told herself in a voice barely audible. "That's all."

That's what she told herself the next morning, too, but she didn't believe it any more than she had the night before. She dressed quickly, deliberately, and headed off to her last day of school classes before the month-long recess. She ignored the increasing throb in her chest, ignored the frantic beat of her heart that seemed to pound against her ribs until she would swear she was bruised from the inside out, ignored the shortness of breath that sapped her strength. And she ignored the collapsing feeling that sunk just under her school blouse.

By the end of classes that day, as her schoolmates leaped for joy at the break in school for a month, Orihime made her way across town alone, barely able to keep a smile on her face as she said a brief goodbye to Tatsuki.

She gave Ichigo and Rukia her best fakest cheery smile, and then one to Uryuu and Chad, and Chizuru, and headed to Urahara's shop deeper into the side streets.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This isn't exactly a sequel to _Orihime in Hiding_, but it takes place after. Thanks for reading!


	2. Left of Center

Orihime approached the small shop set back from the sidewalk with more caution than usual. Kisuke Urahara's natural fascination with all things research related had led to problems for several people she knew in the past, but she wasn't sure where else to turn. She had considered a visit to Hachigen, but the squeezing strain in her chest was getting steadily worse and she didn't want to cross town. She was hoping for some answers.

After the first two blocks from school she had to admit this was far more than being winded after the one kilo run or indigestion – which she'd never had before – and seemed to have a more sinister air about it. She knew that because Tsubaki had told her so.

_"What the hell's going on, woman?"_ had been the exact words he'd hissed into her ear. _"What kind of an attack is this? Everything is turning black!"_

That had gotten her attention.

She fought the tears threatening her eyes as her steps hurried faster on the sidewalk. As much as she disliked the increasing pain in her chest, the fact that her spirit sprites were losing vision was more frightening.

She pushed a hand to her blouse, crumpling one edge of her bow, but the crushing feeling didn't abate. She saw no one as she went into the small shop, the bell above tinkling to announce her arrival.

Urahara's head popped up from behind the counter, his striped hat askew. Beside him Yoruichi was leaning on the counter, looking a bit frustrated with him. He held up a handful of licorice candies, smiling. "That's all of them. Happy now?"

Yoruichi smiled back and snagged the wrapped candies out of his hand. "Much better."

"Hello, Orihime-chan," he sang out as Orihime reached the counter. "I hope you're not after licorice today, because someone demanded to have all of them herself."

Yoruichi gave him a tired look. "I'll share with _her_."

"Oh, no, thank you anyway," Orihime said, bowing slightly. For once her mind wasn't on the assorted candies and sweets behind the counter. She bit her lip, looking around for Ururu and Jinta. She saw neither, and she glanced back to Urahara, and then slowly to Yoruichi.

"You feeling all right?" Urahara asked, watching her fingers grip her blouse. He frowned, glancing to the room behind the counter that was curtained off, before looking back to her. "Hot day out today. Do you want a glass of water?"

"Oh, no, no..." Orihime returned Yoruichi's stare. "I was wondering if I could talk to you. About a girl subject."

The dark-skinned woman raised an eyebrow before nodding. "Sure, come on with me."

She waved her around the corner of the counter while holding the other hand up to Urahara. "Where do you think you're going? This is between girls."

He did his best to look offended, but it came off as only a little less sneaky than usual.

"Actually, I think it might be a problem he may know about," Orihime admitted as she met Yoruichi at the end of the counter.

"Oh?" This time the sharpness in Yoruichi's tone was enough to slice through the fan Urahara had snapped over his face. "How so?"

Orihime didn't want to explain it, not to anyone, and certainly not to the scientist-inventor who'd made enough semi-raunchy comments for her to put together a number of images in her mind. She pushed a hand to her chest as the constriction there increased. "I'm not sure."

Urahara's professional interest locked into place. "Come on, Orihime-chan. Miss Yoruichi can speak with you alone first, and then we'll see. How about that?"

She didn't entirely want to agree with him, but she nodded and followed Yoruichi.

"I'm not sure it's anything at all," she said hopefully a few moments later when they were alone in the small kitchen at the back of the shop where Tessai had a pot of sugar cane water cooling. "But it seems to be interfering with my power sprites."

Yoruichi frowned, twisting the lock on the door to the hall behind them. "What sort of interference?"

Orihime spent a few moments telling her the problems she'd had that afternoon and of Tsubaki's report of enlarging blind spots. "And it's not just him," she concluded. "He says they're all affected. I don't feel any differently, Miss Yoruichi. Just a little tired, and it's hard to breathe."

Yoruichi nodded as she pulled the café-style curtain across the window that overlooked the shop's back yard. "How bad is this sinking in your chest? Show me."

Unease claimed Orihime's face, but when a sharper pain caught her chest, she quickly pulled the bow free at her throat and unfastened the first three buttons of her blouse. "It began yesterday, and it's a little worse now."

Yoruichi stepped closer as the girl pulled the left side of her blouse open a bit more. She frowned, inspecting the shallow dip in the smooth skin below her collarbone and just to the right of where her heart was.

Orihime looked away as the woman leaned closer, gold eyes studying the spot that was no trick of lighting. "You see it, too?"

Yoruichi nodded. "This is the first time this has happened?"

Orihime nodded. "Do you know what it is?"

Yoruichi shook her head. "No. I'm not the resident scientist here. I think Kisuke should take a look, Orihime. He won't touch you," she added as the girl closed her blouse with a flat hand. She smiled kindly. "He's a professional, Orihime. Think of it as a medical necessity. I'll be right here with you."

Orihime let the idea toss through her mind, alternately cringing and embracing the idea of someone with knowledge of spiritual compositions study her new problem. "You'll be here, too?"

Yoruichi nodded.

"... Okay."

It took a few moments for Urahara to listen to Orihime detail again what she'd told Yoruichi. She didn't look at him directly, keeping her hand at her blouse against her chest and speaking in barely more than a mumble. Yoruichi added a few side notes, and then Urahara's usual candor was replaced with the expert attitude that had made him – albeit short-lived – the captain of Twelfth Division, once upon a time.

Orihime kept as much of the blush from her face as she could, but failed in much less than beet red. She glimpsed the green and white hat bent over her chest, holding her breath when he told her to, exhaling slowly as directed, describing the scale of pain with each movement. It took four minutes, but to her it seemed like thirty.

Finally Urahara straightened, and this time there was no humor in his face to be seen. "Well, I must say, Orihime-chan," he said gravely, "I'm fascinated. I've wondered about this many times, and this opportunity to -"

"Kisuke!" Yoruichi snapped at him, eyes glinting. "This is not the time for research."

"It's the perfect opportunity to study a theory of mine," he said, looking back to Orihime and smiling for a moment before the expression fell away and he sighed. "Of course, it has to be stopped. I've always wondered if it could be done; looks like someone got to the field tests before me."

"What are you blabbering about?" Yoruichi asked, scowling at him before pushing him a step from Orihime. "Go ahead and button up your blouse."

Orihime complied all too hastily, but now there was a new fear simmering in her. "You wondered if what could be done, Urahara-san?"

He watched her tie the bow at her throat. "Did you spend any time with Szayel Aporro during your captivity in Las Noches?"

Her mouth dropped open and she caught her breath, which made a sharp pain catch at her chest. She coughed a little, shaking her head.

"I'll get you some water," Yoruichi said.

Orihime swallowed, her mouth dry as she shook her head in answer to Urahara's question. "I never saw him alone. Only a few times in the halls, and I never spoke to him." She shuddered at thoughts of the pink-haired scientist in Aizen's army of Espada, and from what Uryuu had told her about the erratic man.

"Did he give you anything? To eat or drink?"

"No. Never."

Yoruichi handed her a glass of water from the sink. "Did you have any medical attention there?"

"No." Orihime took a small sip of the cool water, dizziness beginning in her head. She breathed slowly, aware that Tsubaki was murmuring something incoherent at her ear. She shook her head. "Do you know what it is?"

Urahara shrugged slowly. "The idea of delayed soul modification is a theory that's never been tested in Soul Society," he told her, "but it's gotten more discussion among researchers since Mayuri opened Szayel's laboratory and been toying with all sorts of oddities." He smiled a little, hoping to erase some of the alarm that was eclipsing her face. "Don't look so worried, Orihime-chan, it's –-"

"Soul modification?" she echoed weakly. She looked from him to Yoruichi and back again. "Delayed soul modification? Me? How? Szayel-san never did anything to me."

"Which is why this must be a very early stage of experimentation," he said.

Yoruichi crossed her arms as Orihime took a deep drink of water. "From one glance at her you think you know enough to diagnose something like a modification, Kisuke? You're not that good."

"Her power sprites are going blind," he said, shaking his head. "That's the first sign. This physical feature," he gestured to her fully buttoned blouse, "is merely a later stage. Don't look so glum, Orihime-chan. It's reversible."

Orihime almost sputtered her water back into the glass. She coughed a little more and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Reversible?"

He grinned. "At this stage, yes. While some researchers were working on progressing something like delayed modification techniques," he said, nodding, "I've been working on reversing the process. Have been since the Vizards got banned and we had to set up camp here in the Living World. This is a slow process, unlike what happened to Shinji and Kensei and the rest of them; this is stoppable, Orihime-chan."

She sighed, fingers tight around the glass as her hand began to shake. Yoruichi put an arm around her shoulders and smiled at her.

"You came to the right place, Orihime," she said. "He knows what he's doing. Most of the time."

He nodded in agreement to part of her comment. "I've developed a protocol – just in case – for an instance like this." He disappeared out the kitchen door to the hall, calling back, "I think alerting Captain Unohana about this would be wise."

Orihime put a hand to her chest, pushing firmly as Yoruichi nodded.

"Captain Kurotsuchi is still embedded in Szayel's laboratory in Hueco Mundo," she said, watching the girl's nervous fingers on her blouse. "He'd just pass you off to one of his underlings for observation, anyway."

To Orihime, that sounded better than having Mayuri Kurotsuchi's personal attention, but she didn't say so.

"You'll have to stay clear of anyone with spiritual natures," Kisuke said as he returned with a small wooden box. "That means shinigami, Quincy, and anything else. Things like this," he said, nodding to her chest, "feed off of spiritual properties. That's probably what awakened it. That, or a timer. Or both. That would be my guess."

He opened the box to expose three rows of small vials, each containing a few drops of fluid in various colors. "It was a useless formula for full-fledged hollowfication, like the Vizards, but something as early as ... you," he added hesitantly when he saw her pained expression, "should do the trick."

Orihime's fingers curled against her chest, wrinkling the cotton-blend of material. "How can you be sure it's that?"

This time Kisuke's face took on a weighty expression. "I've spent many decades isolating hollowfication characteristics, Orihime-chan," he told her, not looking to Yoruichi as she nodded. "The shop keeps a meter running twenty-four hours a day, and has for twenty years; you popped a solid two out of ten when you walked in." He smiled as her startled eyes widened. "Two is not un-reversible; that's a six. So you're in the safe zone, but we need to get your started quick. You'll need to stay away from your friends, the ones who have any inkling of spiritual pressure," he said, closing the box and snapping the lid shut. "And you'll need to be watched, by someone in a gigai. Not just anyone. I'm sure Captain Unohana will send someone capable once she's informed of these new developments."

Orihime nodded slowly, the rush of information adding to her dizziness, the pain pressing in her chest compounded by a new problem. "I have to give up my friends?"

He nodded. "Just for a while, Orihime-chan."

Yoruichi patted her shoulder, smiling. "I'm sure Captain Unohana will send someone you can get along with. Her Division is very caring. You'll see."

Orihime nodded, sighing until her ribs hurt. She looked at the box Urahara held. Perhaps it wasn't as bad as she feared. She knew something was wrong, and she knew it wasn't simply overexertion. What little she knew of Szayel Aporro was not good; the scientist seemed capable of almost anything, and she didn't want to think about how he could have managed to infect her with something that had come to hollowfication fruition so long after she'd left Hueco Mundo. Maybe she could get answers from whomever Captain Unohana sent to stay with her.

Unless it was Hanatarou.

It was going to be a long summer break.

* * *

There were still vacant captains positions to be filled in Soul Society, and no one was in any hurry to fill them, or it seemed to Renji. The War was over and a lull had spread across Seireitei in absence of the constant threat Sousuke Aizen had raised.

As much as the time of peace was needed to stabilize the Society, Renji found himself restless. Rukia had gone back to her pastime of Kurosaki, and he was making a determined effort to remain in the role of older brother.

Older meddling brother, at times, but he accepted it. Rather, Kurosaki.

He looked down at the request in his hand. It was from Fourth Division, from Captain Unohana herself, and it made him more curious than anything else. He couldn't recall having slighted any Fourth Division members lately, and he wasn't due for any medical attention.

He was waved through the gates of Fourth and easily found his way through the streets to the largest medical facility, nodding to the shinigami that passed him. He'd almost reached the facility when a female voice called out to him from one of the smaller study clinics.

"Vice Captain Abarai."

He turned to see Unohana approaching from a side street. He made a short bow. "Captain Unohana. You sent for me?"

"Yes, Vice Captain." She nodded further down the main way. "I'm going to check on a few patients – new recruits to Eleventh Division. I'm without my vice captain this last week, and I miss her. She's a great help, one of the few who can deal with Captain Zaraki's wounded. Walk with me there."

She continued on and he fell into step beside her.

"Do you keep current with news from the Living World?" she asked.

"Some of it." Where it concerned Rukia, would have been a more accurate answer, but Renji felt no need to explain that detail. "Did something happen?"

She handed him a folded paper.

He took it, confused and wary, and opened it.

"Orihime Inoue has been diagnosed with what Kisuke Urahara calls a predetermined soul modification complex. Delayed, if you will," she said when he looked to her in surprise.

"She's, she's turning Hollow?" His eyes went back to the paper, searching for clarification or something to disprove what he'd just heard.

"That's what it looks like. He caught it in time." She sighed, looking ahead to the warm, sunny street. Hers was a peaceful division, and she liked to keep it that way, which meant that Eleventh Division members had to stay out. "It's a delicate field, hollowfication, and Captain Kurotsuchi has unleashed a few nuisances in his findings in the Hueco Mundo labs. Most reports are unsubstantiated, of course, but no one knows entirely what Szayel had locked in that lab."

Renji was reading the paper. Four papers, actually. A report by Isane Kotetsu. His steps slowed and Unohana's did also.

"Isane has been assigned watch over Orihime this last week," she said, voice lowering. "It's a precautionary measure, to make certain Urahara's protocol takes full effect. She's been sequestered from anyone with even minute reiryoku. Isane has been in gigai form, and they've been careful."

She looked to him when he said nothing.

Renji frowned at the papers in his hands. It looked benign enough. According to the report, Orihime had barely been detected with any modification issues. His initial panic over anyone he knew – aside from Kurosaki – turning Hollow faded a few notches.

"This looks like she's doing okay," he said, reading slowly. "She's healthy, staying home, physical indications have remedied." He looked to her. "Is there something more, Captain?"

Unohana smiled gently, sighing. "Perhaps. That's the problem."

"What?" His fingers knowingly tightened on the paper. "What else?"

"Isane has been there a week, Vice Captain. She reports there's been changes in the girl. Eating habits, loss of sensibilities, emotional instabilities."

He chuckled, eyes skimming the pages. "She is seventeen, Captain. Sensibilities are in question anyway at that age."

She gave him a sour look, but he didn't see it.

"You see nothing amiss there?"

He turned to the next page. Isane's handwriting varied from measured to loopy toward the end of the report.

The list of ingredients and food combinations wasn't new to him. He'd seen her eat worse; he'd even been served worse from her. He shook his head, grinning at her.

"She's like this," he said, holding the papers higher. "That's just her."

Unohana raised an eyebrow. "She's like that?"

He nodded. "Yup."

"That's right. You chaperoned her last time before the War. I remember reading some of your reports."

He scowled at the slight giggle she tried to hide. "Some of that was taken wrong."

"You didn't play surgeon?" she asked with more of a smile.

He didn't want to admit that part, and there'd been nothing surgical about it. "My communication channels weren't working."

She nodded. "But you see nothing unusual about Orihime in Isane's comments?"

"Nope. That's her."

"Thank you, Vice Captain. You've been very helpful."

There was something about her tone that made Renji's inner alarms sound. "I have?"

"I think that's the problem my vice captain is having," she said as they reached the medical building where assorted grumblings and arguments could be heard from inside. "Isane doesn't know what is normal for Orihime Inoue, and she had no way to judge abnormal behavior in her. That's necessary to determine the effectiveness of Urahara's remedy."

Renji stood straighter. "Well, there's nothing here that isn't normal for Orihime at some time. It's just her."

Unohana smiled. "Good. I'm glad you know her well enough to make that call. I have permission from Captain Kuchiki to lend you out. You'll be replacing Isane as Orihime's guardian until we get this matter settled."

Renji lowered the papers, looking for traces of humor in Unohana's smooth expression. There were none. He shook his head. "Wouldn't she be more comfortable with a woman?" He looked back down to the last page of the report where the silhouette of a female was outlined, a small black X marking a spot on its chest. "I think a female guardian would be better for this."

"Thank you for your input on that matter, Vice Captain," she said, pulling open the door to the facility. Out it came shouts and cursing from the Eleventh Division members who were in stages of medical treatment. "You leave tomorrow. I hope you remember your English."

Renji's face fell before he could catch it. He watched the door close behind her.

He looked down as the report crumpled in his tightening grip.

Maybe he could talk Isane into staying.


	3. Living Again

It was customary for Mayuri Kurotsuchi to ignore screams of agony, even from his own Division members, and there was little about the current cries echoing mutedly down the chamber corridors of the subterranean depths of Szayel Aporro's lab of Hueco Mundo to make him think a second look – or even a first look – was necessary.

He turned back to his work on the third of the numerous storage rooms he'd discovered of the former Las Noches researcher. He'd taken great delight in the findings of the first lab rooms. It was all below par in research and stock tissue samples than Kurotsuchi's own research facility in Soul Society, but the Espada's methods were semi-interesting. Clinically-challenged and tainted by the flamboyant researcher's ego, but still somewhat interesting, Kurotsuchi had decided.

"What?" he snapped to Nemu who had dared ask a question for the second time.

She stood composed as usual, awaiting his answer to her query. "Would you like me to look into the matter in the next sector, Captain?"

Kurotsuchi's eyes were fastened on the records Szayel had kept of his experiments in assorted hollowfication and Hyogoku research. "No need, Nemu. If those imbeciles cannot handle a simple detoxification of a closet, then they deserve to die from fear." He grinned at the findings Szayel had recorded, oblivious to his underlings around him that were carefully packing another shipment of equipment for transport back to his Division laboratory. It was a sterile room, as the first two had been, and hadn't been used in quite some time. The smell of gangrene from once living tissue had begun to escape from several compartments in the sample closets.

A gargled scream reverberated from a lower room.

Kurotsuchi's eyes narrowed. "I'll poison them myself if they don't shut their feeble mouths," he growled. He flicked off the screen to Szayel's research findings on the monitor he'd been studying and turned to Nemu. As he did, one of his unseateds passed down the hall to the open doorway to the room.

The black-robed figure paused, looking in at the shinigami captain and vice-captain. For all appearances it looked like the unseated member of Twelfth Division that it was, but the glance behind the eyes was bitterer than any of Kurotsuchi's members would summon to level on the captain.

Kurotsuchi huffed at him. "You insubordinate little snot," he said indignantly, "you do not acknowledge your captain? What sort of ..."

But the unseated shinigami had moved on, letting the heavily made-up captain ramble threats and insults into empty air as it made its way up the corridors of the lab vault.

Once outside at the opening of the cavernous lab, the shinigami dropped to his knees and belched up a slimy casing that appeared to be a large worm. The shinigami fell to one side, its interior depleted of anything resembling a spiritual presence as the casing rapidly formed into the Octava Espada.

Or, at least a reasonable version of the original Espada researcher; Szayel Aporro Granz wanted no competition in his field of study, even among his future selves. None of his reproductions in the underground lab were complete clones of himself.

What was reproduced from the host shinigami was purely science. And vengeance.

He wiped down his slimy body, the spirit particles in the Hueco Mundo atmosphere invading his flesh to round out his thin form. He scowled at his nakedness, and then looked to the collapsing shinigami's robes.

With a despairing sigh, he set about removing the Twelfth Division member's uniform. What was left was an emaciated corpse, void of any spiritual presence.

The reconstructed duplicate of Szayel shrugged into the black robes and pants, grumbling. He was without some of what had made Szayel Aporro Granz an Espada, but there would be time to determine that matter later.

Soul Reapers had absolutely no sense of fashion, he decided, fastening the obi at his waist. What a dull style of clothing. His slim fingers rubbed his chest where Kurotsuchi's sword had lingered at his death. _That_ Szayel recalled with clarity.

Without a glance back to the cave, Szayel set his sights on checking up on one of his favorite testing experiments.

Orihime Inoue should be entering the third stage of her regimen about then.

* * *

Southern Kentucky was not Michigan, Renji was learning. Over the course of the twisting twenty-some mile drive that felt like fifty from the airport in Pikeville to what was simply called Chesney Hollow he'd seen signs for places like Hazard and The Breaks, but no bluegrass, as the map of the state had boasted.

He grimaced as the taxi took another abrupt turn in the road. Everything had been around a bend or down a swoop of highway, and they'd been traveling up a mountain or down one for nearly an hour since the airport in Pikeville.

It hadn't been Renji's idea to fly – none of the trip had been his idea – but Captain Unohana had insisted, and not many shinigami, male or female, chanced to stand against the Fourth Division's seemingly serene captain. Renji knew better than to question too many of her suggestions; after all, Fourth was where one went to get healed, and he'd spent considerably time there.

"... and over there's Virginie, if you go far enough," the taxi driver was saying, grinning through stained teeth. "Other side of The Breaks. Say, where you from again?"

"Tokyo," Renji said for the third time. He was in the passenger seat of the car's front, and gladly so. The driver had a habit of spitting tobacco juice outside his open window and the backseat window glass was streaked with brown. "How much farther?"

"Oh, just a while."

Just a while had been half a dozen dizzying turns ago. Renji clamped his mouth shut and looked out the window again. Horses were everywhere in the state. Black fences ran over acres of green pastures, horses of every color collected inside. He'd given up counting them. The landscape turned from rolling to choppy and then mountainous, and as the taxi meandered off the highway onto a narrower side road, Renji's nerves grew.

He knew Captain Unohana was capable, but he'd gotten less instruction on this assignment than the previous time he'd taken Orihime under protection. He knew little, save that she'd had a run-in with some modification process Urahara had diagnosed, and that the general opinion was that she was fully recovering.

But he'd gotten no gadgets, no sensory tracking watch, no bracelet for Orihime. No timeframe.

What he had gotten was the distinct feeling that any hint of Hollow in anyone – especially among the Living – was enough to put everyone on higher alert in Seireitei. Aizen had made many new suspicions possible, and Renji wasn't sure exactly how suspicious the Council of Forty-Six would take matters of a delayed soul modification in anyone.

The taxi swung around another sharp turn and climbed steeper into the heavily treed road that snaked up the mountain. To Renji's right the shoulder off the pavement dropped abruptly into a ravine.

_Shit_, he thought. He hadn't driven in a year.

That was one of the reasons he'd told Isane he'd take a taxi from the airport. He was none too sure about the tall lieutenant's driving abilities. Isane wasn't the most steady-headed mind when she was sent to the Living world.

The road dissolved into a thicker treed part of the mountainside, with small houses on either side of it as the pavement cut between a break in the slope. The houses were spaced wide apart and set back off from the roadside, most hidden by clumps of trees and shrubs, but farther off the elevation still apparent as the tops of trees on the next mountain broke at uneven angles in the distance.

Already Renji was lost. If Soul Society wanted Orihime to get lost, they'd succeeded all too well this time.

Any deeper into the mountain and Renji figured they'd have to shunpo out. "Where's the next town?" he asked the driver.

"Oh, not too far."

Renji was getting tired of that answer, and was about to get more details when the taxi slowed and made a turn into a driveway crowded with unkempt shrubs.

"You want 4221, right?" the driver asked through a plug of tobacco, looking to Renji with a grin.

Renji nodded, watching as the taxi made another twist of a turn that put them before a small two-story house.

"Then we're here."

Renji opened the door as the driver shifted into park, the humid air of the afternoon hitting him square in the chest.

The driver spat out the window. "You ain't got no bags, so I'll take my fare now. Forty-two fifty."

Renji nodded at him, ignoring the hand the man extended. "You've got a passenger to take back to the airport. Just wait. I'll pay you before you leave."

"It'll cost you."

Renji slammed the door. "I know. Just wait."

He turned and gave the house a better look. It was small, gray-sided, with dormer windows sticking out one side of the roof, surrounded by mature broadleaf trees, and birds and bugs, so it sounded.

A modest cream-colored car was to the side in the drive farther back.

Renji frowned at it. Why not a truck? He'd seen enough trucks on the roads from the airport to know that trucks were second only to horses in population.

A wide porch ran the length of the front of the house, and the door there opened as he finished his casual study of the premises.

Isane looked out, giving him an immediate frown.

"No luggage, Renji?" she asked. "Aren't you staying?"

He nodded, taking the few steps over the uneven patio stones that made up the walk to the porch. "The baggage conveyor ate my luggage."

She giggled. "Come on in."

He crossed the porch and followed her inside, eyes going over the modest front room. Hardwood flooring stretched to the kitchen beyond that was divided by a wall with a love seat and pedestal lamp built into an end table. He looked to his left to see what looked like an ancient television set.

Isane noticed his attention. "It works."

He nodded. "Your ride is waiting outside, so if you're packed, we can go over the details now." He looked to the wall dividing the two main rooms as footsteps sounded. "Unless you want us to drive you later," he said to Isane.

She shook her head, plunging her hands deeper into her front jean pockets. "I'm ready now."

"Hi, Renji," Orihime greeted from the kitchen entryway. She smiled, looking as American as she could in white canvas Capris and a peach tank top.

He couldn't help but let his glance go to where the X had marked the spot on the female figure on his work detail that he'd studied on the plane flight earlier.

Orihime blushed a little, fingers pulling the ends of her ponytail over her chest more.

"Hey, back in the States, huh?" He knew she'd noticed his attention, but habits were hard to break, despite the reasons behind them. "Feeling okay?"

She nodded. "Yup. Oh, where are all your bags?"

He explained his lack of luggage as they sat at the table in the kitchen, ever mindful of the meter running in the taxi outside. Orihime nodded, and immediately began detailing a list of things he needed to get in town when they next went.

Isane stripped off the watch from her wrist with more enthusiasm than she cared to admit. "I guess you can use this one," she said, handing him the decidedly delicate timepiece. "If it'll fit."

He looked at the thin beige watchband and small gold face. "I doubt it." He tried to wrap it around his wrist. There was a half inch gap. "Well, guess I'll carry it."

"They didn't give you a watch?" Orihime asked, pen paused over the list she was making. So far the strip of paper only had two words written on it.

Renji glanced to her wrist where a coral bangle was locked. "No. No one said anything about one this time." He leaned back and stuck the watch in his front jeans pocket. "I guess they figured I'd use yours," he said to Isane.

She nodded. "Well, I'll tell Captain it doesn't fit. I'm sure she'll send another for you."

He saw her look to Orihime, and recognized the bedside manner slip over her posture.

"I suppose he won't want my room," she said leadingly to the Living girl.

Orihime nodded, eyes on the list. "I already made up the front bedroom upstairs."

"You didn't have to do that," he said. "I can get my own –"

The taxi horn sounded from outside.

Isane sighed. "I guess I should go over the details."

Orihime looked to her, then Renji, and then smiled brightly and stood up. "Oh, of course. Yes. I'll...I'll go get ...your stuff."

"No, I didn't mean that," Isane said, but Orihime was already dashing up the staircase, the steps creaking in a few spots.

"I'll bring her stuff down in a minute," Renji called after her.

Isane stood. "Okay, I'll be quick about it, Renji," she said, her tone lowering. "She's okay, physically. There's no sign of any hollowfication abnormalities. She seems okay, I guess. But she has some habits – I don't know – that are just uncharacteristic of human nature."

He grinned, wanting to laugh, but didn't. Nor did he recite any of the speech he'd prepared to get her to stay on. He stood up and looked to the staircase that emptied into the kitchen near the front room juncture. "She's got quirks."

Isane shrugged. "I guess. It's all in my reports. They're in the desk in my room upstairs. You fill them out in duplicate every other day unless there's an issue, and you have to complete all the pertinent sections, Renji."

He frowned.

She nodded. "She knows you've got to ask, so just get over the awkward parts or let her check those blanks."

He shook his head. "I can't –"

"You don't have to examine her, Abarai," she said sharply. "Geez, just a few questions. Unless something goes wrong, and in that case you call Captain Unohana immediately."

He scowled, one hand going to his Soul Society communicator in his back pocket where he also had her ticket for her flight home. "Do our communicators work out here, or do the mountains interfere with that reception, too?"

She nodded. "Mine works. Anyway, this is more about observation. She's followed the regimen Urahara-san started, so it's a matter of waiting."

He handed her the plane ticket. "Guess you're on your way home."

She nodded, looking at the ticket. "She's a nice girl, but..." she shrugged, sighing, making a face Renji knew carried what Shuuhei Hisagi would call that pained unease that kept her awake at night with bad dreams.

They both glanced to the staircase as Orihime came down, two bags slung over her shoulder and dragging a large wheeled tote.

"I would've got those," Renji said, taking the bags from her.

"That's okay. It was all downhill," Orihime said, blowing a loose stand of auburn hair from her face. She looked to Isane. "It was very nice to meet you, Vice Captain Kotetsu. Thank you for staying with me."

For a brief movement a flicker of doubt came over Isane's timid expression. She caught the frown before it formed as she returned the sincerity in Orihime's face. "Oh, I'm glad we had a chance to meet, Orihime. I don't know many Living people. But," she said, pausing as she looked to Renji, rethinking her appeal to her captain, "well, Renji knows you better than I, and you really should be under the care of someone familiar with your habits."

Renji's grip tightened on the bag handles. "Ready?"

Isane nodded.

It took less than five minutes to have Isane packed into the taxi and the driver paid. For a few self-conscious seconds Orihime and Renji looked at each other on the porch, and Renji got the idea it was going to be worse than he thought.

Orihime seemed to feel the same way. "Want to see the house?" she offered.

"Sure."

He followed her through the front room of the house again.

"It's small here, but there's a good breeze upstairs in the evening, and we need it, because it gets hot here, Renji," she told him, leading the way into the kitchen.

"You've seen the kitchen," she said needlessly, gesturing to the back screen door at the far side of the room where a small porch was attached. "There's no garage. Sorry."

"No problem." He looked through the window over the sink. "Any neighbors?"

She nodded, smiling fuller. "There's an old lady across the street. Widow Mayes, but we haven't met her yet. She waved yesterday when she was at the mailbox. She has animals. Chickens, and sheep, I think."

"How do you know she's a widow if you haven't met her yet?"

"Oh, some guy was by there the last few days, yelling for her." She climbed the steps before him, which was a little narrower than most cases. At the top of the landing the second floor leveled out to the back of the house. "I think he was a handyman. He was talking loudly and calling her Widow Mayes."

He nodded, stopping when she did at the first bedroom. He looked out the window there at the bedroom's doorway. It overlooked the front yard, which was slightly sloped to the curving drive. It was a simple yard, easy to defend with its enclosure of shaggy privacy shrubs. To either side were thick woods of broadleaf trees, and beyond those he could see no other houses. From his vantage of the second level the top of another house was visible across the road, sitting farther back.

"There aren't many people on this road," Orihime said from the open doorway as she watched him study the new surroundings. "It's so quiet at night."

He nodded, this time keeping his eyes off her tank top. "Are you all right? I know you had some trouble with a few things."

She nodded, her smile immediate, even if a bit dimmer than most he'd seen on her. "It's just mostly a cough now." She bit her lower lip, looking nervously into the bedroom painted tan. "Isane left the sword here. I guess since you have no luggage that we should go shopping tomorrow. Unless you want to go tonight, but there really isn't much in the closest town. Just small shops."

"We'll go tomorrow."

She nodded and continued down the hall to the next few rooms. "The bathroom," she said, nodding to the pink wallpapered room before they passed another bedroom. "Isane had this room, and then I have the last one." She stopped at the rear bedroom painted pale lavender. She looked at the double windows that had a view out over the back yard. "It's just grass and a small garden that's overgrown. I'm not sure what's planted in it yet."

He stepped into the room and looked out the windows to see the yard. The small plot of garden was indeed overrun with weeds and grass. The back of the yard abutted more trees and shrubs. He glanced to where Orihime's bags were set to one side by a closet. "You haven't unpacked yet?"

A sigh escaped her, followed by a short cough.

He glanced back quickly to her. "You're sure you're okay?"

She waved off his look of wary alarm. "Just catches every now and then. Urahara-san said it would happen." She took a deep careful breath. "All better."

He nodded, halting beside her at the doorway. "How long have you been here?"

"Three days." She stepped to one side as he left the room and then followed him down the hall.

"You've already been to town?"

She nodded as they descended the staircase. "We had to get groceries. No one delivers pizza out here, Renji."

He groaned for more reason than one.

"We're stocked up," she added as they went into the kitchen. "I hope you like oatmeal."

He frowned until he recalled what Shuuhei had said about Isane. "Oh, is that what you're stocked up with?"

She nodded. "Lots of it."

He watched her hand go to her chest, her fingers curling away from her collar when she realized he'd noticed.

Her eyes dropped to his hands. Doubt seeped into her face as she looked to him. "You don't have a ring on, Renji. Are you using something different to change into shinigami?"

He was hoping she wouldn't be so observant. He certainly didn't want to think about it. He'd already made the call to Soul Society over the matter, already gotten an earful from his captain about it. "No. It was lost in my luggage that got torn up at the airport."

This time the misgivings were plain on her face. "You're all human? Living? You can't become shinigami?"

_Damn, it sounded so brutally weak aloud_, Renji thought. "That's what it means, Orihime." He grinned, hoping she'd smile at least a little and wipe that shock off her face. "Just temporarily."

She mustered up part of a smile. "Oh. I see." She nodded, smiling more. "Okay."


	4. Jail Bait

Renji awoke the next morning to an unfamiliar sound. He opened his eyes, seeing the ceiling above him in the tan-walled bedroom, taking a few seconds to remember where he was, and who was a few rooms down from him. Already he could smell attempts at breakfast.

The sliding sound continued, and he rose on one elbow on the mattress to look to the doorway. The sun was up, shedding bright patches into his new room, and beyond those he could see the door half open.

A pile of clothing – his clothing – was neatly folded, t-shirt atop his only surviving pair of jeans, and edging closer into the room across the floor as Orihime's hands pushed them. The rest of the girl was unseen around the open door.

"Are you stealing or giving?" he asked sleepily, sitting up, and then realizing he was wearing his only other piece of surviving clothing. He pulled the sheet over his legs better as the door opened a few inches more.

"Good morning," Orihime's voice called in. "Uh, are you decent?"

"Yup."

He was still making sure as she tentatively peeked around the door.

"You can come in, Orihime," he said, running a hand through his hair that had tangled overnight.

She didn't, but stepped back into the hall out of sight. "I was just dropping off your clothes. Uh, the washing machine doesn't empty water completely, so they had to dry for a long time."

He eyed the stack of clothes she'd pushed into the room a few feet by the ladder-back chair near the wall. "You washed them already?" _Damn, she was in a hurry about something_, he thought. He sighed. "You didn't have to do that."

"I don't mind." There was a pause. "I have water heating for tea. Do you want oatmeal?"

He threw back the sheets, which coincided with her looking around the door at him. There was an awkward second of met stares, and then Orihime popped back out into the hall, her cheeks blushing pink instantly as he reached for the sheet again.

"Sorry," she said timidly.

He groaned. "My fault."

"...I'll be downstairs."

"Oatmeal is fine," he called, hearing her footsteps on the creaking stairs.

Renji got out of bed. It wasn't the best start to the day, he knew, mumbling as he straightened the bed into passable tidiness. He closed the door the last few inches and glanced to his folded clothes.

But having clean clothes to wear was a plus.

He pulled on his jeans and looked out the window at the front yard. Somewhere beyond it he could hear roosters crowing, some in unison.

_Of course the grass needs mowing,_ he thought sourly. He wondered where the mower was if there was no garage. Past the overgrowth of shrubs near the road he could see the angle of another house roof, and far beyond that a few acres was a collection of small homes built against the next mountain slope. It looked close, but was actually divided by a ravine that cut through, parallel to the road.

He pulled on his t-shirt, nose wrinkling at the strange smells coming up from the main floor. The small homes across the ravine were very small, in fact, he realized as he squinted at them, appearing as mere white squares in the assorted greens of the slope. He heard the water kettle begin to whistle from below.

He gathered his hair up behind his head, looking around for his remaining hair-tie. It was on the chair by his black headband and the watch Isane had left, reminding him he was powerless as a shinigami.

In the small kitchen below, Orihime looked to him as he came down the staircase. She smiled, holding up a large spoon in triumph.

"Isane's favorite oatmeal was maple, so we have lots of it," she said. "We have things to add to it, if you want them."

He sat at the table where she had already decked it with small bowls and a few condiment jars. He tried not to frown at the assortment, but it came naturally.

She set a large bowl of steaming oatmeal before him before placing one on her own placemat. She pushed two jars nearer to him. "Do you like cinnamon? Try the barbeque sauce, too. It has lots of kick."

"Uh, yeah," he said, nodding but without intention of using the spicy sauce. He looked at the mustards, raisins, olives, and other oddities she'd arranged at the center of the table. He chose the cinnamon. "Thanks for washing my clothes, Orihime, but it really wasn't necessary."

She nodded. "That's all right." She stirred her oatmeal, which was dotted with various toppings. "Grundy is the next town over. I looked it up in the phone directory, and it's a little bigger than Chesney."

"I guess that's where we'll go."

When she was focused on the bowl before her, he gave a closer scrutiny of the lavender tank top she wore. She was a healthy teen girl with more than her fair share of shapes and curves, but nothing seemed amiss.

At least, he didn't think so. He was sitting at the wrong corner side of her to see any concave part that had been marked on the Isane's report. He looked down at his oatmeal. In his opinion, there wasn't a blemish on the girl at the table that would make anyone think she'd been tinkered with in any manner.

She looked to him hesitantly. "Did I upset Isane, Renji?"

"No, of course not." He swallowed quickly. "She's kind of frighty about ..." He was going to say _a lot of things_ – and it would have been true – but that wasn't his secret to tell. He knew of Isane's nightmares about strange foods, but that was only because Hisagi had gotten too drunk one night and spilt a few secrets that weren't _his_, either. "She's not been to the Living world much."

"Oh." Her eyes lowered to her bowl as she stirred in a dollop of orange marmalade.

He knew it was his opening, and for once, maybe he was on top of the whole tact thing. He leaned a forearm on the table to see her face better "Would you rather her be here, Orihime?"

Her large eyes snapped to him quickly. "No. I thought that maybe I said something wrong to her. She seemed so nice. I thought maybe ..." She shrugged, biting her lower lip a little. She was about to speak again when a clattering of footfalls sounded from the porch.

Renji was immediately on his feet and at the front door. He wished he'd brought the sword from upstairs, but one look through the door window between the faded, knotty ecru curtain made him forget the weapon.

He opened the door for a better look, one hand braced on the door frame, uncertain what the newcomer had in mind. A large horned goat stood looking back at him on the porch, head lowered, tawny tan and brown body braced on stocky legs. Its rectangle pupils gave it an evil look as it stared Renji down.

"A goat!" Orihime chirped from behind him.

He turned to see her, but she slipped beneath his arm and stepped out onto the porch.

"Oh, look at you," she said, crouching and extending a hand. "Where do you live?"

The goat bleated a response, sniffing her fingers with a quivering nose.

Renji looked from the goat to the yard. There was no one to see, no other animals.

"Maybe it's lost, Renji," Orihime said, petting the goat's nose with her other hand.

"Watch out for those horns," he said, eyes moving over the yard.

"There you are," a raspy voice charged from the side of the house.

Both Renji and Orihime looked to the side of the porch as an old woman walked slowly over to them. She wore a thin cotton dress that was oversized and outdated by decades, most of the skirt hidden by a faded yellow apron. She squinted at them, her face a combination of wrinkles and age spots. Her hair was sparse, with a wide balding part in its bland brown center. The goat looked to her and mutedly bleated without opening its mouth.

Orihime stood up. "Hello. Is this your goat?"

The old woman looked to her, then Renji for a long moment, frowning intensely at him, an expression he wanted to return, but didn't. After all, this was most likely their neighbor.

"Yeah, it's mine." She nodded, wrinkling a smile at Orihime. "You're the new folks? Hmm, thought it was two women, Samson," she said to the goat. "Don't think it is." She looked back to Renji.

"Hi," he said, realizing they hadn't worked up a story for who they were or why they were there yet.

"Hi. I'm Orihime," Orihime was introducing, turning to gesture at Renji, her face falling a little. "And this ... is Renji."

"Howdy," the woman said. "I'm Mayes. Widow Mayes. That's Samson."

"Hi," Renji said again, scrambling for explanations. "You live across the road?" he ventured.

She nodded. "Sorry about Samson. He's a vagabond." She whistled sharply and the goat clamored off the porch with the agility of a tricycle falling down a staircase. It landed on its worn knees and got up quickly. Mayes shook her head. "He's blind in one eye; the knees don't work so good, too."

The goat trotted over to her, nibbling on her apron as she absently pulled the material away. "So you're new around here?"

Renji nodded. "Yes, uh, we're ..." He looked to Orihime, who was looking back with something that was a combination of desperation and anxiety. He wished he'd planned more on the plane for staying rather than for talking Isane out of leaving. He looked back to the old woman. "Where's the best place to eat in town?"

She grinned a little, her face belying that she saw through his discomfort to the fallacy beneath his inquiry. "Yeah, that'd be Grubby's."

"Grubby's?" Orihime said. It didn't sound like a good place to eat, even to her.

"Well, it's Pubby's Grub, but townsfolk call it Grubby's. Down from the bait shop." Mayes gave them each a look, and then started off across the grass. "Don't let them give you no guff about your decorations, son."

Renji scowled at her as she left down the driveway with the goat toddling beside her. Orihime looked to him, and then up at his tattoos, and hair.

When she looked to face, he was looking at her.

"She seems nice," she said, nodding hopefully.

He nodded.

* * *

It was another hour before Orihime and Renji set out for town. He was in no mood to meet their new hometown, a term that nearly made him shudder almost as thoughts of his Living skin did, but they took the car down the twisting road that veered around the mountainside to the hub that was Chesney.

There was little to like about the car, and after the first two hairpins turns, Renji liked it even less. Orihime sat in the passenger bucket seat clutching the safety belt crossing her chest. He was trying to drive carefully, but the car was no truck and he was both out of practice and in a hurry to get back to the house. It was a bad blend.

Orihime sat stiffly in the seat, eyes on the shrubby slope that dropped to her right off the shoulder of the road. "It is pretty here, Renji," she said, holding her breath in the humid warmth as they took a turn, "but I get a little motion sick."

His hands were gripped tightly around the steering wheel, scowl on his face as he glared at the narrow, twisting road ahead of them that was now half-blinding as the sun moved higher into the sky, cutting through the trees to make flickering plays of light on the windshield. "Shouldn't be too far ahead."

"No, just another few turns," she said, nodding as the car took a curve and headed at an incline. She pointed to a soft shoulder that was missing a guardrail. "That's where we skidded a few days ago. Look, the marks are still there."

Renji looked at the double trek of black marks on the pavement just as they took the turn. It put the car into a sudden opening between the mountains, and with that came an abrupt draft that pushed the car to the far side, adding fresh skid marks as Renji mashed the brakes and fought the steering wheel. The outside passenger tires caught the shoulder, but the car stayed mostly on the road.

Orihime sucked in a gasp, feet bracing on the floor.

"Sorry," Renji grumbled as the car obediently drifted fully into the lane.

It was only another quarter mile to town. They saw it as the car topped a curve. Below Chesney branched out to the left side of the mountain, the right side of the tiny town taken up by the abutment of a neighboring slope, putting the village into a gulley. Renji didn't comment on the quaintness of the few shops, gas stations, or bowling alley.

"This place is nothing," he finally said as they got into the center of town, which was nearly out of town as well. He looked to the spare two dozen stores and residences around them. Most of the people – what few there were – looked back at him, a couple pointing. "Shit, Orihime, there's nothing here."

She nodded, eyes on a small shop beside a sign over a larger shop reading Shad's Bait and Pool. Two stores down from it on the sidewalk was Pubby's Grub with a carved wooden Indian figurine at one side of the door. She closed her eyes for a moment as a wave of dizziness passed over her.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Renji asked, veering toward the sidewalk as he looked to her. He merged the car back into the lane as an old woman walking shook her cane at him. "You all right?"

Orihime nodded, eyes wide open now. "I think going around that last curve got to me."

"It'll take some getting used to." He looked up and down the sidewalks, spying a store called Donna's Dime Den. Inside he could see racks of clothes. "What do you say we go into Grundy another time? They've got clothes there. I'll get enough to get by."

She looked past him to the store he nodded to, her complexion slightly greenish pale. "Are you sure?"

"Yup. We'll do that."

Parking took a few minutes, and then another few minutes as the car began to roll out from the painted parking lines on the incline until Renji pulled the emergency break.

Orihime was already on the sidewalk that ran between the buildings from the small parking lot. "The brake might not work," she said, unconsciously smoothing her lavender collar with a hand. "Isane left it on a few days ago and we drove home with it like that. There was smoke and a really bad smell."

Renji joined her, looking back to the car. It was docilely immobile. He looked to where the parking lot gently sloped to a drain in the middle before curving back up to another set of slotted lines. The rest of the parking space choices were just as steep; he decided to leave it.

Orihime knew Renji was ignoring the stares following them into the store. There weren't many people about in the small town, but the ones that were within eyesight seemed to have already spotted them. Once inside, they got a better look at the merchandise.

Racks of clothing lined one wall, with smaller circular racks dotting the aisle and assorted household goods and a few toys further back. Orihime figured it was a close as they'd get to a general store in the town. She looked up at Renji.

"They should have what you need," she said, glancing to the racks and shelves to his left. "Men's clothing. Uh, I'll be over there, if that's okay."

He nodded to where she indicated a short aisle of toiletries and bathroom accessories. He looked back to the coral band on her wrist. "Don't go too far."

She smiled through the pallor that dimmed from her cheeks. "I won't."

He watched her ease her way through he crowded racks of clothing, then looked to the lone clerk that watched from the lone counter. Overhead music was piped in, a tinny sound that played the local station of country music that broke for the news. He turned to the rows of folded jeans and shirts, one hand on the watch Isane had left him in his pocket.

Orihime busied herself among the shelves of toiletries and other household oddities, fingering the clothespins and lines, the bird feeders and packets of flower bulbs that made up the aisle. She could wee Renji's red ponytail over the eyelevel top shelf. She spent a few minutes selecting a toothbrush and comb for him, and then a deodorant and packet of razors and shaving cream, blushing a little as she considered the impropriety of it, and then snagged a package of hair-ties. She wandered down the aisle, sniffing a tester of perfume, squirting a brief gust onto her wrist, avoiding the hand with the bracelet. She looked up at the ceiling where the speaker was telling the news from the radio station.

" ... at large and considered dangerous," the broadcaster was saying. "Four were last seen moving east from Hazard. The public is advised to treat all escapees with caution and not to engage. Any prisoners sighted should be immediately reported to the Perry County Corrections officials. Roadblocks are in place along highways in a thirty mile radius of Hazard."

The radio newscast went on to other news, and Orihime stopped investigating the perfume testers, standing on tiptoe to see Renji looking back at her two aisles away. He already had an armful of jeans and shirts and wasted no time navigating the clothes racks to her.

"Did you hear what the radio said?" she asked hushedly when he reached her.

He nodded. "I'm sure they'll be rounded up. Don't worry about it."

She watched him pick out a bottle of shampoo. "Uh, I got a few others already."

He looked to her armload of items, and just for a fleeting moment he could have sworn there was a dark cast to the angle of her chest just above her collar. On impulse he leaned closer. She moved half a step back, arms tightening around the toiletries as he glanced to her guiltily.

"You didn't have to pick all that out," he said, trying to cover his wandering attention for more than one reason. "Hair-ties?" he asked, hoping to distract her from his real interest.

Her smile brightened back onto her face. "Oh, yes. Black. Or did you want another color?"

She managed to pull the package of ties out, unaware of his attention back on her chest.

The skin was smooth again, no shadow, no minute darkness. Renji chided himself; just his imagination, he assured himself. His eyes went back to hers when she looked at him, nodding at the black hair-ties.

"That's fine."

"I wasn't sure about the rest of it ..."

They finished shopping for Renji's necessities quickly, both eager to move on after the unsettling news of the prison break. Neither mentioned it as they left the store, their thoughts shifting for a moment when they realized the car had inched back a bit from the curb when they got to the parking lot.

"Dammit," he muttered, stowing their bags in the back seat before opening Orihime's door on the passenger side. "We've got to park flat? How the hell are we going to do _that_ anywhere here?"

He closed the door after she settled into her seat.

"Maybe we could back up and park downhill," she suggested as he got behind the steering wheel a moment later.

He nodded, starting the ignition. "I guess so." He glanced to her, making a concerted effort not to notice the scoop of her lavender shirt. No shadow of anything in his un-glimpse.

He finished backing out of the parking space and then pulled the car back onto the main street. It was barely that, but the scenic mountainside beyond the stores lining it made up for the lack of buildings. They passed the bait shop and restaurant near it. He saw Orihime watch the wooden Indian as they passed it.

"We'll go there soon," he said. "Maybe tomorrow?"

She glanced to him.

He shrugged, taking the car around the corner to climb their way back home after as the mountain rose before them. "We've got to get groceries anyway, right? We'll come back tomorrow, when you feel better."

She sighed, one hand on the door's armrest. "I'm okay now, Renji. I'm not dizzy anymore. We need to make a grocery list, too. More than oatmeal."

He saw her fingers go to her collar as she stifled a cough.

He didn't comment on it, partly because of the train of police cars that headed their way from the opposite direction, all lights flashing but without sirens. The sheriff cars zipped past them at a speed too fast for the small town as Renji and Orihime's cream-colored coupe passed by.

She turned in her seat as far as the safety strap allowed, watching the half dozen cars speed into town.

Renji looked first at the turn her torso made, seeing no sign of dark shadow at neckline, and then at the angle of her hip nearest him, eyes following the curve in her navy shorts.

A faint whiff of perfume followed her movement, and he looked back to the road in time to overcorrect back into the lane as an outside tire grabbed at the shoulder. Orihime turned and plopped back into her seat.

Renji cleared his throat, eyes on the road before him, shaking his mind from the wrong curves he'd been following.

"Do you think they found one of the prisoners in town?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Probably just a precaution. Hazard is far from here, especially by mountain."

She nodded, thoughts already moving on. "We can have salmon and asparagus for dinner. Is that okay?"

Frozen pizza sounded safer to Renji, but he nodded. "Sure."

* * *

The day had warmed to uncomfortable temperatures by the time Orihime and Renji got back to the small two-story house eclipsed by trees and out of control shrubs. Insects buzzed amongst the foliage, and rooster crowing and an occasional goat bleat could be heard from the house across the road.

Renji spent a few minutes unloading his clothes and other items in the upstairs bedroom and switching on the box fan that was staring at him from near the small bureau before he joined Orihime in the sunny kitchen below. She was already thawing out a large chunk of salmon at the sink. She gave him a second look as he headed to the back door.

"Just going to look around," he said before she could speak. "Get a feel for the place."

She nodded. "Okay."

She unwrapped the white paper from the fish, leaving the plastic bag inside still frozen around the pink flesh. Outside she saw Renji emerge from the back porch side, his wary attention taking in the small yard that dissolved into a line of nearly dead cedar trees where she knew a garden shed hid.

Her fingers were halfway to her chest as a cough surfaced, and she stopped herself, remembering the fishy smell coming from the sink. She suppressed the cough and rinsed her hands at the faucet. Every little hint of cough made her pause, and she knew Renji had noticed it.

_Like some sort of freak,_ she thought, frowning at the fish in the sink. When Ichigo had sought out Urahara for hollowfication, he'd wanted it; she didn't. She'd finally come to terms with the limits of her fighting capacities and abilities as a healer.

She gave the fish – half a fish, actually – a frown, and sighed. The odd spot on her chest that had sunken and darkened over a week ago was no different from the rest of her skin; she'd checked. Since Szayel Aporro had no access to her, she'd begun to think about a few points Urahara had made after his initial examination of her.

Something in her food, he'd suggested, or in what she drank in Las Noches, or even the clothes she'd worn.

The last suggestion made her feel ill.

She knew that Szayel was capable of corrupting anything, and Uryuu had told her the scientist had even used his brother's death to harvest information about Renji's bankai.

She looked back outside to see the red-haired shinigami disappear around the cedars. That Renji wasn't able to transform into a Soul Reaper didn't alarm her, not very much, anyway; he was a skilled hand-to-hand combatant, even with a regular sword, and he was assigned to observe her this time, not protect.

_He'll be bored out of his mind_, she thought, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. She knew he didn't want the job of observing her. He hadn't wanted the last assignment of accompanying her, either. She sighed, and then looked to the door as he stepped in.

He looked to the oscillating fan she had on medium speed at the stool by the refrigerator. "It's getting so muggy out it could rain this afternoon."

She nodded. "Do you want lunch?"

He shrugged. "If you're hungry."

"Good."

It wasn't oatmeal, but it was grainy. Orihime made Renji the biggest sandwich he'd ever had, with some of the thickest bread he thought could be made. He didn't count the layers, nor try to identify some of them, and it took him a full half hour to eat it. The weather had set in thicker, the humidity pushing the heat on them in the small kitchen, the radio beside the sink tuned to the station that gave hourly updates on the prison break.

Renji didn't comment on the news, nor did Orihime, but each listened intently to the added tidbit to their new surroundings, so it was with a start that they both looked to the front door as a sputter of motorcycle engine grew louder and stalled out in the driveway.

"Stay here," he said, pushing away the last of his lemonade.

"Are we expecting anyone?" she asked, standing when he did.

"No." He glanced to the back door, which was merely screen and framed wood. He changed his mind. "Come on."

She nodded.

Renji had the front door open, again berating himself for not having the sword handy, by the time Shuuhei Hisagi had climbed off the motorcycle and removed his helmet.

"Ooh, a motorcycle," Orihime said from beside him, looking around his shoulder when Renji was slow to open the door wider.

Hisagi grinned when he saw them, waving as he hung the helmet over a handlebar and walked up to the porch. "Hey! I got the right place!"

Renji shot a look from the Ninth Division's acting captain to the bike, and then to Orihime's wide-eyed stare at the now-quiet vehicle. He looked back to Shuuhei, who looked as any other rider in jeans and thick black t-shirt. "What are you doing here?"

"Replacing you," Shuuhei said, grinning wider, swinging a small leather case by its strap as he ran the other hand through his somewhat flattened hair. "Just kidding, Abarai. Hi, Orihime."

"Hi," she said, bowing slightly as he reached the porch.

Renji opened the door wider to allow him in, eyes lingering on the motorcycle for a second longer. "Why replace me?"

"Just kidding, Renji," Shuuhei repeated, giving him a punch to the shoulder when he didn't move. He looked to Orihime, jerking a thumb at Renji. "Not much fun, is he?"

She smiled, shaking her head. "... He is."

Shuuhei handed the case to Renji. "Your new items. Ring, watch, and bracelet." He looked to the one Orihime wore. "Want to swap that one out for one that goes with the new watch?"

She nodded. "Come in. Would you like lemonade? Ice tea? Oh, are you hungry?"

Renji glanced between them as he unzipped the case. Inside were a leather-banded watch, a green bangle, and a gold ring set with a small black stone.

"No, I want to get back to the airport before it rains." He looked to Renji. "I'm supposed to take back your first impressions report."

Renji shook his head. "It's not quite finished yet."

Shuuhei grinned, nudging Orihime with an elbow. "You keeping him busy?"

A touch of flush lent her cheeks. "Oh, uh ... no."

Renji zipped the pack shut. "I'll fill it out. Can you wait?"

Shuuhei nodded. "Got to talk to you about a few things anyway."

Orihime took it as her cue. "The forms are still in Isane's room. I'll get them."

She was off to the staircase before either shinigami could say a word.

Shuuhei watched her go, appreciating what he could see of her figure climb a few of the stair steps before she was out of sight.

"What are you ogling?" Renji growled.

Shuuhei chuckled. "How'd you get picked for this cushy job?"

"Lucky."

"Nah, that would be Ikkaku. Why don't I get these assignments?"

Renji gave him half a glower. "You _want_ this assignment? Don't you have a Division to run?"

Shuuhei shrugged, looking to the ceiling as footsteps sounded. "I remember watching her train with Rukia at Thirteenth's back fields. Talented girl, but no fighter."

"She's not supposed to be a fighter." Renji glanced out at the motorcycle. "Why that?"

"Wanted to." Shuuhei looked around the room, then to the kitchen beyond. "Always wanted to try riding one of them. Kind of tricky at first, but the guy at the lot said it was just liking riding a horse. Whatever that means," he added. He nodded to the staircase. "Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's okay." Thoughts of the cream-colored car curdled in his mind. "You're not staying?"

"No. Why? Trying to get out of it?" Shuuhei asked. "You already slipping in your paperwork, Lieutenant?"

Renji shook his head and looked to the staircase as Orihime appeared there. She held up a stack of papers. He groaned. "All of them?"

"I think it's only supposed to be a single page report." Shuuhei intercepted the papers as Orihime handed them to Renji. He thumbed through them, selecting two. "Just these."

Renji took them, frowning over the forms, looking up as Orihime presented him a pen. "Thanks," he told her. "Have a seat, Hisagi."

"Actually," Shuuhei said, looking to Orihime with a grin, and then back to Renji, "I was thinking of taking her for a ride on the bike. While you fill out your paperwork."

Renji's hand tightened around the papers as a low squeal broke from Orihime. Her smile was immediate, matching his frown.

"Do you want to?" Shuuhei was asking Orihime as Renji began to speak.

She looked to Renji. "Can I?"

"You don't have to ask his permission," Shuuhei said.

"The hell she doesn't," Renji decided.

"Well –"

"I outrank him," Shuuhei said with a smile.

"No, you don't," Renji said. "We're even, if that."

Shuuhei shrugged, glancing to Orihime's bare feet. "Grab some shoes, princess."

She looked to Renji, who nodded.

"Thanks!" She darted past them to the porch where her sandals were parked beside his sneakers.

"Princess?" Renji muttered to Shuuhei as they followed her out.

Shuuhei waved him off, watching Orihime slip on her sandals.

"She wears the helmet," Renji said, resisting the impulse to wad the papers into a ball.

"Of course." Shuuhei looked to Orihime as she stood up. "Ready?"

She nodded enthusiastically.

Two minutes later Renji was watching Orihime climb onto the back of the motorcycle seat behind Shuuhei, her arms hesitantly going around the Ninth Division lieutenant's waist, the large helmet buckled over her head. She waved to him as Shuuhei backed the bike across the grass a few feet and angled it down the driveway.

Renji waved back, a growl in his throat the rivaled the bike's motor. A few seconds later they were gone, the girl's tentative hold on the man in front of her disappearing into a tighter embrace as the bike lurched into movement.

Renji watched what he could see of them through the few peeks of low shrubs on the roadway until the motor faded with distance. He sat down on the porch steps, looking down at the papers.

He wanted a truck.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thanks for reading!_


	5. Positive ID

Orihime was breathless by the time she and Shuuhei got back to the house. Renji was still on the porch, his paperwork finished as he stood akimbo on the step, watching them narrowly. She got the feeling she'd been gone too long.

But it wasn't Renji's look of reprimand that he leveled on Shuuhei as they walked up the sloping yard to the porch that made her feel a little more than glad to be back. She'd kept her cough to a minimum on the bike as she sat behind Ninth Division's vice-captain, but as they met Renji at the porch, the cough won over.

Both Renji and Shuuhei looked to her as she put a hand over her mouth and tried to muffle the cough. She shook her head at Renji's suspicious look.

"You all right?" he asked as she eked out the last bit of cough.

She nodded, smiling quickly although her chest felt like collapsing. "Yes, fine," she said, nearly gasping from lack of air. "Just too much wind around that last corner."

"Don't start," Shuuhei said before Renji could verbalize the sharp look on his face. "All these mountains look the same."

"You got lost?" Renji nearly snapped at him.

"Not lost," Shuuhei corrected. "Just the scenic route." He looked to Orihime. "Okay now?"

"Oh, yes," she said with an eager nod that nearly brought on another coughing bout. "Would you like to come in? We have iced tea and lemonade."

"No, I'm going now," he said, taking the rolled papers from Renji and looking to the cloudy skies. "I've got a flight later this evening and I want to leave before this turns into rain."

"Oh, okay. Thanks for taking me for the bike ride," she said, keeping her breathing slower as another cough threatened.

Renji looked to her, seeing her hand go to her collar. She gave him a fleeting smile and headed into the house.

"What do you mean _scenic route_?" she heard Renji ask as she passed through the front room and went up the staircase.

She was on the third creak of steps when a more forceful coughing jag caught her. She hurried to the bathroom and let it go. She wasn't sure how much was from the force of the wind on the bike and how much was something more sinister. She took a ragged breath, making herself breathe slower, and looked into the mirror.

Everything was the same, no shadows on her chest as she examined her reflection in the mirror. She flicked on the vanity overhead light and peered closer. There was nothing, and as she testily put her fingers to what she called the trouble spot at the skin above her bra line, nothing happened. She sighed in relief, feeling a small catch in her chest. She'd used up all the lavender vials in the protocol kit Urahara had given her – the grape flavored ones – and would start the orange ones soon.

"Maybe they'll taste like oranges," she said aloud, not really caring, so long as the strong fluid reversed any delayed Hollowfication characteristics she could possibly have.

Hollowfication.

Even the word made her sound less human. Hollow. Empty.

She shuddered, instead focusing on the low rumble of voices from the main floor as Renji and Shuuhei spoke. She washed her face and took a moment to take out the ponytail and comb the tangle of auburn tresses into a manageable mane around her face. The day was muggy and the motorcycle ride had done wonders to cool the air for her, but it did horrors to her hair. She reattached her hairclips.

A sudden loud rattle came from her room down the hall, and she went back into the hall. By the time she got to her bedroom the curtains were twisting at the west window. She went there and pulled the window pane down, feeling the moisture in the air that promised rain. Down the hall came another rattle and she skipped out of the room. After glancing into Isane's old room, she knew it was Renji's window and went there.

Sure enough, the western window was open, the curtains whipping. She tugged the glass down, and then paused to look out. The woods were thick, leading into a forest beyond the property line that was marked by a wooden fence in stages of disrepair. They were surrounded by trees, in fact, and while she could see the outlines of some buildings further out from her northern back window in her room, she couldn't distinguish any neighbors. She knew there were people around, neighbors, but the high mountains and tall trees gave a feeling of isolation. She knew from her few trips into town with Isane that they weren't too far out.

But she felt like it.

_Maybe it's just the prison break that makes it feel that way_, she thought, fingers resting on the window sill as she watched the tree branches dance under the growing wind.

"Did you see something?"

She spun around at Renji's voice, squeaking an '_eep'_ as she looked to him in the doorway. "Oh, no. The wind was getting noisy."

He nodded, eyes on her collar. "How's that cough?"

"Okay," she said brightly, nodding.

"Good. Come on down and we'll get this put on," he said, holding up the case.

"Okay. He's gone?"

"He's gone."

They settled in the kitchen at the table after Orihime got them lemonade, listening to the wind gain in strength outside. Her eyes went to the thin newspaper pushed to a placemat, and before she could ask, he answered her question.

"It's a special edition," he said, opening the case and bringing out the green bangle, watch, and ring. "All about the prisoners." He saw her brow frown. "Just some details and shit. Nothing to worry about."

She nodded, scooting her chair closer to the corner of the table and laying her arm on the surface, forearm up.

Renji lifted the small case's false bottom to find the key and eighteen-inch chain. "Enjoy your ride?"

She nodded. "But all the turns and hills were kind of nauseating."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes."

The green bangle was made of two smooth, rounded malachite segments, and each locking onto the next and secured with the small key at the end of the chain. Renji unlocked one metal junction and eased it open. "You were gone long enough," he muttered. "Nearly forty-five minutes. Did you get lost?"

"Oh, no. But we had to take a detour," she said, watching as opened the two green bracelet segments. "They had a roadblock set up and we went around it to another road."

He nodded, reaching for her wrist. He pulled her arm closer, turning it over to see the coral bangle. He scowled. "Isane's got the key to this one. I guess we can just leave it on."

She frowned at the pinkish-red bracelet. "Is that okay?"

"I'll call Soul Society later and make certain." He fit the loosened green bangle segments around her wrist, looking up to see her cheeks blush faintly. He grinned. "Me being here isn't going to get you in trouble with a Quincy, is it?"

At first her face fell, but then she giggled. "No. It's not like that."

"Not like that?" He snapped the segments together and locked the tiny juncture with the key. "Ishida isn't the jealous type? He looks like he'd be."

"Oh, well ... it's not like that," she said lowly, watching as he tested the lock's catch. "Not anymore."

He nodded and put the chain with the key around his neck, thoughts sorting between what she could mean.

Orihime pulled her wrist closer and smiled at the piece of jewelry. "It's pretty."

"It's got a quarter mile tolerance, according to Shuuhei," he said, buckling the watchband over his wrist. It fit perfectly. He watched her slide the coral and malachite bracelets up her wrist, and then back down to her hand, jangling them testily. "What do you mean, not any more?"

This time her lashes remained lowered over the jewelry at her wrist, a slight pout at her lips as she considered her answer. She lifted one shoulder, sighing. "He's decided to pursuit his heritage, Renji. It takes a lot of concentration and, and dedication."

Renji could piece together some of what she wasn't saying. He nodded, deciding to drop the subject. She'd said enough.

She looked to him quickly, something short of hurt in her violet-gray eyes, and then she glanced to the newspaper. "Did they find the prisoners?'

"No." He thought to take the paper from her, but let her find the photos inside instead. Whatever her relationship had been with Uryuu Ishida, most of it was over, it seemed. He watched her open the newspaper, which was only the outer pages and a pullout page inside, and placed them on the table so the escaped convict photos were on display.

He put the black onyx ring on his right ring finger. Much as he wanted to feel his shinigami powers, even for a few seconds, it wasn't worth setting Orihime's de-hollowfication progress back. He leaned over the table to see the newspaper photos better.

"Nyles, Butler, Morgan, and McDarrow," she read slowly from the captions beneath the images. Morgan was an enormous man in his early forties with dark stringy hair that fell to his shoulders. Butler and McDarrow were mid twenties, both on the smaller, tightly wound side, with close cropped brown hair. Nyles was more average built with blond hair that was slightly spiked in a familiar fashion, in his early twenties.

Silently they each read the individual criminal records of the escaped prisoners, until Renji read ahead, and had read enough. He pulled the paper from her before she could read the last two details.

"They'll find them," he said, folding the paper back into a semblance of its original creases as she looked to him curiously. "Seriously bad guys, but don't worry about them, Orihime," he added, recognizing the sinking look in her face when she glanced back to the paper.

"Can we get a radio for the kitchen?" she asked, then smiled a little. "We only get three stations on the TV in the living room."

He didn't know why she was smiling about that, but he nodded. "Sure." Her eyes went back to the paper and he pushed it away. "What's for supper?"

"Oh, I'll let you choose," she said, jumping out of her chair and making a beeline for the refrigerator. "The pantry here is huge, Renji. You can almost walk into it."

He sat back in his chair, watching her rummage through the closet-size pantry next by the refrigerator. She collected a few cans and packages and went to the counter, chatting away about her last grocery shopping trip with Isane. Outside the wind picked up stiffly, gusting clouds into the sky bringing rain that began as a timid spatter at the west windows.

"I hope Lieutenant Hisagi got to the airport before the rain started," she was saying, opening the third metal can.

"I'm sure he outrode it," he said as she crouched to find a pot in the lower cupboard. He watched her hair fall to one side of her shoulder as she tilted her head to find the cookware. "Do you know him very well?"

"Hmm?" She glanced to him as she pulled out a saucepan and a small skillet. "Oh, no. Do you like anchovies with peanut butter and marshmallows? I could make a sauce."

The mention of ingredients put a halt to any miscellaneous thoughts floating through Renji's mind. "A sauce for what?"

* * *

Of all the things Szayel hated most, he was nearly one of those now. Being a Living being was as far from Arrancar as he could get, but now here he was, among them.

He hadn't wanted to go to the Living World, but that was where his test subject was, and even in his lessened condition after being restored from his Hueco Mundo lab, he could sense his workmanship.

But only faintly.

Orihime Inoue should have been sending out a loud and clear signal he could follow easily, but she wasn't.

Someone had been tampering with his experiment.

He'd followed that faint signal to the Living World, but the closer he got to it – to her – the weaker it got.

By the time he got to Chesney Hollow, the signal had all but disappeared. He decided to blame Kurotsuchi.

Now, in his most basic restored form, he was more researcher than anything, his Espada quality advantages now too low to register more than any number of three-digit Arrancar, but it didn't worry him too much.

Those could all be restored.

Besides, service among Aizen's ranks wasn't high on Szayel's list at that moment.

He was a scientist first.

And besides that, he was hungry. The world of the Living, particularly where Orihime's scent had led him, was without much for a spiritual being of his capacity to feast upon. Hunger made him edgy, and still wearing his stolen shinigami robes made him more ornery than usual.

He decided a host would be best. Something he could easily feed while pursuing and observing his Living subject. Something that would blend in with his surroundings. Something that would let him get close to his subject without detection.

He could manipulate nearly anything for his purposes, and when he saw a likely candidate lying at the edge of a cornfield at the foot of a hill, Szayel decided to take habitation.

He was in no hurry to quell his Espada-Arrancar abilities, but he subdued those urges as he ascended to the fallen form. First things first.

Nyles was lying on his side, his stomach badly bleeding into a pool of congealed blood on the ground. Szayel saw the convict's eyes open slightly as he approached.

Nyles coughed, sputtering blood and saliva onto the stubbly grass as he tried to distinguish the pink-haired man in black robes walking up to him. The gunshot wound that had taken out most of his innards was past pain, but even he knew Death when it walked up to him.

Szayel grinned at him, curious as to the man's condition. "Hell, at your service."

It took a moment for Nyles to get enough air into his fluid-filled lungs to speak. "... are you?"

Szayel frowned as he got closer. A human host might be easier to feed, but they had so many drawbacks. He stopped before the figure on the ground. "I was hoping for a better specimen. Something already intact."

Nyles closed his eyes, care gone.

"Maybe you'll do."

* * *

The soggy morning broke across Chesney Hollow under an already hot sun that promised a sultry day. The clouds had rained themselves out, but the air was still muggy, lending a stifling, unstirring feeling to the small house as Orihime and Renji went about their day.

It also let Renji know just which parts of the roof leaked. Mostly the ones over the back porch and inside one corner of the stairwell into the basement, in fact. He stood at the back door looking out the screen at the broken gutters that let the water dump right into the flower bed along the north side of the house. Beyond he could see the small garden shed, and for a moment, it looked to him like the perfect place to hide, if one were a convict on the loose.

"I'll be right back," he said to Orihime still at the table finishing her large bowl of oatmeal and cup of tea. "Just checking the gutters."

"Okay," she said through a mouthful of oatmeal.

As soon as Renji stepped out onto the wet grass he felt it, the slight twinge of something out of place, something as minute, but unidentifiable in its faintness. He crossed the yard to the shed, seeing nothing save a few birds picking at worms in the unmanaged garden plot. The shed was four-foot by four-foot, with assorted gardening and yard tools inside, most rusted and dented, but usable. The latch was still latched from the outside, and there were no footprints in the soggy dirt around it.

Renji glanced back to the house. He could see Orihime through the kitchen window over the sink, her head lowered as she ran the water. It wasn't much, but at night with the lights on, the swag style curtains would do little to hide anything.

His Soul Society communicator suddenly beeped, making him flinch. He grabbed it from his back pocket, thankful it worked, and answered it.

"Hello?"

"_Hi, Renji,_" came Isane's voice. "_Everything okay there?_"

"Yes. You?"

"_Yes. Shuuhei isn't so good. He got arrested last night_."

Renji stopped walking, waiting for Isane to say she was joking. She didn't. "Are you sure?"

"_Yes. Well, not quite arrested, but they're holding him as a person of interest. I'm not sure what that means. He got stopped at a roadblock a few miles from the airport and is at the Mooresville jail. He said he only has one phone call, so he called Captain Unohana_." She sighed. "_Anyway, Captain wants you to go down there and see if you can vouch for him. The authorities keep saying he's an escaped prisoner named Nyles_."

Renji would have chuckled if it had been about someone else. Like Ichigo Kurosaki. "He's wearing a ring. Can't he just slip it on the other hand?"

"_They took his wallet and personal items."_

It sounded like arrest to him, but he didn't say it. "Yeah, okay."

"_Good. I think you'll need your identifications_ ..."

He headed back to the house, but halfway there he lost the signal. He growled and backtracked to the car in the driveway.

"... _it would be a big help_," Isane was still saying. "_I don't think they can hold him much after that_."

He nodded, looking to the back door, mind running along what he'd thought the first time he'd seen the convicts' pictures in the paper. "All right."

"_Just a formality. He might even be free by the time you get there_."

He sighed, glaring at the car. "All right. We've got nothing else to do today."

"_Has Captain Kurotsuchi or Nemu contacted you yet?_"

Renji switched his stare to the phone. "No. Why?"

"_I'll let them tell you. It's really not Fourth's duty for that. I don't have permission to say_ –"

"What is it?" he asked.

There was a slight pause, and then she sighed. "_I can't say more if you haven't been told through proper channels yet, Renji. I'm sure Nemu will contact you soon_."

He finished talking to Isane and got no more information out of her, and then went inside and told Orihime the news of Shuuhei's arrest. She was at first horrified, and then relieved, but then set into gear, grabbing the phone directory and newspaper as she followed him to the car.

"If he's not arrested," she said once they were on their way down the twisting road to town, the directory open to a map of the county, "then can't he leave?"

"I don't know how that works here, but if he could leave, I think he would have by now," he told her. They cautiously took the turns in the road, telltale black marks from Isane's driving still evident around one turn. He saw her open the newspaper, and this time he let her read the details.

She was looking at the photo of Nyles. "You know, Renji, it does kind of look like him," she decided, studying the black and white image. "If this Nyles had black hair instead of blond, and if Vice Captain Hisagi didn't have his tattoos." She read silently for a moment. "Oh, it says here that Nyles has an armband tattoo around his bicep. It doesn't say what it looks like."

He nodded. He'd read that part, too, the night before. They reached town and were quickly through it. A glint to his right made Renji look back to Orihime. The hairclip facing him was carefully set in her hair, as she usually wore them, but it made him think of something else.

"Captain Kurotsuchi assigned anyone near you his most resistant gigais," he said, hoping to sound more casual about the matter than he felt. "You think it's a good idea to have your hairpins in? Won't they affect Urahara's protocol?"

She folded the paper so Nyle's photo was facing out. "I asked him about that. He said it would be okay." She frowned at the convict's photo. "It made me wonder about it, Renji," she said after a moment, looking to the hilly scenery that sprung up as they left town. "Urahara-san said that he was trying to undo Hollowfication, but I know," she paused, her voice dropping as she dared continue, "I _know_ he's done a lot of research on _attempting_ Hollowfication."

This time he looked at her for a longer moment, eyes resting on the frown that extended to her whole face as she stared out the window. He turned his attention back to the road. He knew where her mind was going.

"Captain Unohana and Captain Kurotsuchi are looking after this, too," he said, not sure how much help bringing up the name of Twelfth Division's captain would be. He saw her wince a little. They continued out through the mountainous twists, the sun beating down from high in the sky as the curves began to wear on Orihime's vertigo.

The car had just made it out to the main highway that opened up to relatively flat land, leading to Mooresville, when Renji's Soul Society communicator beeped. He answered it, keeping one hand tight on the less meandering road that evened out between the bases of the mountains.

"_Hey, hope you haven't left the house yet_," Shuuhei said over the phone.

"I thought you were in jail," Renji said.

Orihime looked over at him, smiling. "He's out?" she whispered loudly.

He nodded, eyes on the road ahead.

"_Yeah, was, but I'm out. Just wanted you to know before you left. Isane said she called you_."

"We already left," Renji told him. "Where are you?"

"_On my way to the airport. Again. Sorry about the false start, Renji_."

"Yeah, no problem." Renji began looking around for a place to turn the car around. There wasn't a side road in sight, now that the land had flattened out decently.

"_Just letting you know_," Shuuhei said. "_Anyway, I'm off to Japan. Damn, watch yourself, Abarai; they're really looking for these escapees. I had a dermatologist in my face for a full hour last night to determine if my tattoos were real. They'd be all over you_."

Shuuhei chuckled, but Renji wasn't amused.

"But you convinced them?" he asked. He slowed the car and turned into a road that cut through a tobacco field. "How? You've got all your documentation, right?"

"_I guess you haven't heard. Orihime keeping you busy? That guy – Nyles – some farmer shot him in his barn earlier this morning. They haven't found him yet, but it was a clear identification, so they let me go_."

Renji grinned. "Lucky you."

A long line of static cut through the phone as Renji turned the car back onto the road.

"..._I said hi_," Shuuhei said mid-sentence.

"Yeah, I will," Renji said, guessing at what he'd missed, casting a glance at Orihime watching him. "What do you know about Captain Kurotsuchi in this? Anything new?"

There was a sigh. "_You know how Research and Development is. I guess some entity got loose from that Espada scientist's lab in Hueco Mundo, or so they think. Something killed a Twelfth Squad member and Captain Kurotsuchi's lab listed it as having Arrancar markings. Arrancar profiles, Nemu said, and there have been traces of a resurrection. I'm not sure about the details_," Shuuhei said, his tone now rushing. "_I've got to go. My flight's up._"

Renji scowled at the news. "What kind of resurrection?"

"_That's all I know. Twelfth isn't very forthcoming with the details, so I assume it's their responsibility_."

"Their fault."

"_Yup. Nemu should be contacting you about it if it's important_."

"All right." Renji snapped off his communicator and returned Orihime's attention. "Shuuhei says hi. He's out of jail and on his way to Karakura Town."

"Oh, good," she said with a sigh, smiling more. Her tone turned tentatively inquisitive. "Did something else happen?"

He shook his head, looking back to the road before the appeal in her large eyes extracted more of an answer from him. "Just Soul Society gossip, really."

The ride back to town took fifteen minutes, and then another twenty as the roads were blocked leading directly to the community. Renji's irritation grew as they followed detour sign after detour sign around what appeared to be a quarantined area being searched. He instinctively reached for the radio.

"It doesn't work," Orihime told him as he turned every knob and pressed anything that looked like a button on the radio. "I don't know why."

Renji muttered something under his breath, taking the next set of detour signs that led into a twisting incline where the road snaked between taller trees. The new road demanded slower speed, with a sharp drop to the passenger side that cut up the mountainside. Orihime inched further away from the door.

"You can see right down the side," she said uneasily. "I can't believe these people travel roads like this every day."

"Yeah," he said, concentrating on the road ahead. "I guess they're used to it."

She smiled a bit as the slope to her side grew less steep a moment later, the ravine below treed with younger maples and tall underbrush. She looked to his side of the road where the rest of the mountain rose in denser forest. "Are we getting closer to town or farther away, Renji?"

It was a good question. It seemed to him they were putting the mountain between them and Chesney Hollow. "I'm sure it'll cut back up here shortly," he said hopefully.

She nodded.

They turned another sharp corner of the road, and suddenly a tall figure shot from the thick trees to the car's left.

Renji didn't dare dodge to the right shoulder, because there was none, but simply slamming on the brakes sent the car skidding.

There was the thud of body on the front bumper, a man's terrified and startled glare at the windshield before he glanced off, and then an odd tipping feeling. Both Renji and Orihime saw the car hood raise as an angle, and then the sky above it.

The outside passenger tires caught the edge of the pavement and then slid off completely with a loud metal creak, rolling side over side down the slope.

For what seemed like ten minutes the sounds of metal crunching and glass breaking overrode the motor's revving, every loose object in the car taking flight as it rolled.

Orihime's scream was cut short as the safety belt caught at her chest and hips. For several long moments the car tumbled, knocking over saplings and shrubs, clearing a path through the undergrowth, throwing the occupants inside against the dashboard and ceiling. It stopped on the driver's side door, undercarriage against a tree with a loud, jarring thud.

The steering wheel had bent under Renji's grip as he tried to impossibly correct the fall. There was a skull-cracking smack of his temple on the door window, and the last thing he saw was a soft wave of auburn hair traipse across his face before he blacked out.


	6. Habitation

Szayel became painfully aware of the limitations of his new host form. Not only was it a mere Living body, it was barely even that. Damaged and weak, he found himself now encased in a heavily injured form and hungry, and acutely aware of its restrictions.

Nyles' body was barely adequate. Szayel took possession of it shortly before the escaped prisoner's near demise and found himself immediately in trouble. He took a few moments sifting through the murky memories still etched in Nyles' brain, but most were dark and fragmented as the gunshot wound had drained away many working synapses. He pieced together enough to recall Nyles' escape from prison, a few vague faces of the other three convicts and warden, enough memories to know his new host was a wanted man.

"I should have let you rot," he muttered to his new host form as he picked his way across the edge of the field. "Disgusting flesh."

Pain raked the Living form, and it was weak with hunger and injuries. Szayel ignored the pain, but the weakness he found more than a handicap. In his full Espada state of being he could easily heal the body and find another more to his liking, but as it was he didn't want to waste any energy trying to patch together the bleeding and busted Nyles.

Through sheer willpower he made the damaged human form follow the cornfield until it was broken by a heavily wooded stream cutting between the mountainsides. He knew he was leaving a blood trail until the injuries bled thin, but the gnawing hunger and weakness engulfing his energies was foremost. It was late afternoon by the time he cleared the woods at the bank of the stream.

He looked up at the vultures circling over the ravine across the next slope of mountain. He could sense the predatory nature of the birds even from his distance. Perhaps he could find a replacement for his half-starved, nearly depleted shell of a host and continue his search for the girl then.

Espada or not, there were a few things Szayel still was, and _comfortable_ in the ragged and damaged Nyles was not one.

* * *

Renji awoke to a pounding ache in his temples. Something swept his face, a faint touch that he groggily moved away, only to have it graze back, tickling his face under the warm patch of sun peeking through the trees. This time he pushed his hair away with a clumsy hand, forcing his eyes open despite the pain radiating from his left temple.

He opened his eyes to a blurry view of the muggy afternoon, realizing it wasn't his hair that kept falling over his face. At first he couldn't understand it, any of it, like why the thick curtain of auburn hair was suspended above him, or even who's it was, or why there was a tree lying across the car's hood to his left at a very odd angle.

He frowned, groaned a curse when he figured out he was lying on his side behind the steering wheel in the driver's seat, and hitched his left elbow under him, trying to focus his blurred vision on the form above him. Suddenly Orihime's dangling figure over him made a little more sense. Her hair fell over her face toward him, hiding her features as she remained caught in the safety belt, her body half anchored at the passenger seat and half slouched a few feet above him since the car now rested on the driver's side.

The realization hit him suddenly, too quickly to fathom, making him move before remembering he too was still stuck in the safety belt.

"Orihime?" He pushed her hair from her face with his hand, but it only fell back down towards him from gravity. "Dammit," he muttered, frantically fumbling with the seat belt latch. He freed it and tried to sit up better in the odd arrangement.

There was little room in the sideways car, and even less once he sat up. He leaned to the seat and quickly estimated the results of the crash and roll. He didn't know how much later it was, but it was still daylight, still hot and humid.

He pushed Orihime's hair from her face, lifting her head enough to see her eyes still closed. "Orihime?"

She moved her head, which was heavy in his hands, mumbling something incoherent in Japanese about sticky rice bean paste, and then jerked her face up so see him.

Her large eyes got bigger, and then the flailing began. She looked around and pushed both hands into the limited free space, feet and legs making desperate pokes at anything to stand on. She put one foot to the dash, which only confused her more.

"Where ... What...? Where is..." Each word was punctuated by an elbow or a knee, most to Renji as he tried to contain what seemed a human windmill.

"Hold on," he said, catching one of her wrists and dodging one sandaled foot that was intent on a foothold in his ribs. "We've crashed, Orihime. Hold still and I'll get you down."

"I'm ... _up_?" Her head ducked to see her waist, her breathing labored from the position and lungs heavy with fluid. She coughed, and then angled her face to look at him as her free hand went to her side. "My arm's asleep. I can't, I..."

"I'll get it."

She nodded, bumping his shoulder when her head proved too heavy to hold up anymore.

"Are you all right?"

"I think so." She coughed a little more, forehead bobbing on his ponytail as he moved her hair out of both their faces. "I feel like a spider."

He tried to chuckle, moving her by her shoulders until her left shoulder was resting on his left. "You kind of look like one."

Where the safety belt was latched at the seat her hip and waist draped from the full weight of her body, making the attachment tight and unable to budge. He tried to depress the catch, but it held firm.

She moved her sleeping and numb arm out his way, and then giggled as his fingers pushed on the safety belt at her shorts. She stopped. "Is it broken?"

He frowned at the belt and then up at the straps crossing her. "No; just doing its job." He sat back a few inches to see her face at his shoulder. "It won't release like this, so I'm going to push you up and take some of the tension off the latch. Then it should come loose."

"I shouldn't have eaten all that ice cream," she said, blushing as she sighed, bringing on a small cough. She pushed her hair out of her face, and then some of his, too.

He grinned despite the headache. "It's not that; it's because the car's on its damn side."

"Oh."

He moved her arm behind his neck and braced more of her weight on his shoulder, bringing an '_eep'_ from her. He put a hand to her hip and pushed more of her weight up off the latch side of the safety belt, avoiding her knee that instinctively bent toward him.

"Sorry," she said, trying to put her foot somewhere else horizontal.

For a moment it was a fumbling of hands, legs and knees, all of which Renji was trying to evade as he lifted her and disconnected the safety belt. A loud snap, and Orihime fell on him.

"Sorry," she said, hastily scrambling in the confines of the front seat and angle of crash, managing to find a few more awkward positions before actually moving – mostly – off of him.

Under other most conditions it was a fit Renji might have enjoyed, but since they were in a toppled car, and –

"Oh, sorry ..."

Her knee found his ribs and several other tender spots on him before he was able to maneuver her to sit on the only horizontal spot, which was the crushed driver's side window.

She sat back, breathless and blushing from the limited, frantic movements, as he leaned to the seat beside her. For a moment they took survey each other. Her hair was mussed and her face flushed from the angle of dangling for the last two hours, but Renji saw no blood and decided she was more tumbled than seriously injured.

At least, he hoped so.

"You sure you're all right?" he asked.

She nodded and then leaned closer, putting one hand to the black headband at his temple. "You're bleeding, Renji."

He touched the spot of dried blood, feeling the flaky red crumble. Whatever damage there was was beneath the cloth, sticking. "It's okay," he decided, glancing up at the passenger door, their only means of escape. "Sit still."

"Okay."

She sighed and sat back, giving the windshield a longer study. It was shattered and sagging, giving only a limited view of the tree trunk that had stopped them. Outside the birds and insects had returned to chirping and buzzing after the crash, giving the accident an unusual sense of normalcy. She pulled her knees to her chest to give Renji more room to move as he stood and tried to open the passenger door above them.

He forced open the door, metal resisting until he shoved his shoulder against the door panel. It crunched open farther, metal groaning as he cursed gravity in general. A moment later he was able to push the heavy door open enough to get out. He held it open, sitting on the edge of the window to look around.

The ravine was quiet, a few birds chastising him from the trees. He looked up at the slope to the road. The car had left a wide path of bent and broken saplings and brush. He glanced around for any sign of what they'd hit.

He knew what it was.

Morgan. The largest of the escaped prisoners, the one the size of a bull.

Renji figured it wasn't something that Orihime needed to know. Yet.

There was no sign of Morgan now. For a moment Renji's sharp scrutiny went over the trees and undergrowth. Nothing stirred, nothing ran away. He figured Morgan wasn't in any mood to be wandering, not after getting hit by a car.

With more of an effort he pushed the car door back until it fell over the rear seat quarterpanel, and then snapped off. It dropped to the ground by the rear tire.

He looked back down to Orihime, who was cradling her knees close to her chest and looking up at him. He could see a few scratches on her legs, minor, most from whatever had taken flight during the tumble. Bruises hadn't materialized yet, but he knew there'd be some. He knelt and reached a hand down to her.

"Come on out. We've got to be close to town."

It took a few moments to extract her from the car, mostly because there weren't too many opportune places to grab without bringing a blush or yelp from her. And rightly so.

She leaned against a nearby tree a moment later, one hand rubbing her tank top as she took a deeper breath. "What did we hit?"

"You didn't see?"

She shook her head.

He nodded. "Someone. A man."

She frowned, sighing slowly. "Do you think he's hurt?"

He nodded again. "Don't worry about him now." He looked up the slope to the road lacing the mountainside. "Think you're up to walking?"

"Oh, yes."

Orihime and Renji took their time climbing the steep slope that the car had so hurriedly rolled down several hours before. They reached the road and found it devoid of traffic. Renji took a moment to consider their bearings, and then headed them west, their course before the collision.

"How far do you think we are from town?" Orihime asked after a few moments of walking.

"Can't be too far."

"At least it's not raining today."

He nodded, his temple pounding. "Just hotter than hell."

He grabbed her hand as her foot slipped on the gravelly shoulder and she slid. She stayed on her feet, and he looked behind them to see a pick-up truck round the side of the mountain on the road.

It approached at a modest speed, two figures obvious in the seat inside. It met them, slowing.

Orihime's hand tightened in Renji's grip until she saw the occupants.

A mousy blonde teen girl sat nearest the passenger side, cranking the window all the way down as the brown haired guy behind the wheel veered to the road shoulder and stopped. She scooted closer to the window from where she'd been sitting close to the driver.

"Hey! Hey, is that your car in the hollow?" she called.

Renji looked between her and the driver. He was a teen boy, maybe even twenty, he guessed, staring at him and Orihime with cautious scrutiny. He glanced to the girl, who was giving Orihime a concerned exam.

"Yeah, that's us," he said.

"Hell, that's quite a roll," the guy said, his accent more pronounced than the girl's. "Ya'll all right?"

"Been better," Renji said.

"Need a ride? Town's not far, but you shouldn't be walking after that fall," he said.

The girl slid across the seat to the driver. "Hop in."

Renji deemed the couple harmless enough. He opened the passenger door and ushered Orihime in. She settled next to the blonde girl, and then another inch as Renji sat beside her.

The girl stuck her hand out. "I'm Sylvi; this is Delmar. You new here?"

Orihime nodded, a slight dizziness catching her as she did. She shook Sylvi's hand. "I'm Orihime."

Renji rested an arm on the seat behind her. "Renji."

Delmar nodded and eased the truck back onto the road. "Howdy. Did you call anyone yet? Tow truck?"

"Yeah, all done," Renji said.

Delmar nodded. "Not from around here, are you?"

"No." Renji looked to the road ahead.

"Have you called the cops? You need a ride to the clinic up town?" Sylvi asked, giving Orihime a smile. "There's a hospital in Grundy."

"We're fine," Renji said.

She looked back to Orihime. "Okay. Where'd you come in from?" When Orihime just stared at her, she said, "Move from."

"Don't get nosey, Sylvi." Delmar's knee nudged hers.

She sighed, smiling back at Orihime.

"Japan." Orihime sat straighter, her practice story from Isane coming to mind. "We have a job at the Ogihara plant being built in the next county. It isn't open yet, but we arrived early to find a place to live." As soon as she said it, she also recalled that _that_ had been the story for _Isane_. She turned to Renji, who was looking at her with more than confusion. She tried to give him a hopeful smile. "Right?"

He nodded slowly, wishing he'd read up on the back story from Fourth Division on the plane trip over instead of stowing it in his now destroyed luggage. "Yeah," he said, wishing also that there was more behind Orihime's bright smile than good intentions. Like ESP.

"You have a job there, too?" Sylvi asked Orihime. She glanced to Renji, and then back to Orihime. "How old are you?"

"Sylvi," Delmar said sharply.

"I thought she was more my age," she said, ignoring him, still looking at Orihime. "I thought you were still in school."

Orihime realized her mistake, and was about to try clearing it up when Renji pulled her back to his side.

"She is. I've got the job at Ogihara," he said. "We're still working on the language here."

"See?" Sylvi said to Delmar as they stopped at an intersection of two roads at the bottom of the mountain.

Orihime looked either way, recognizing some of the landscape. "Are we back in town?"

Delmar pointed to his left. "That way's town. That way," he said, nodding to a wooden sign at the side of the road on the passenger side, "is out."

Orihime looked past Renji to the sign reading _Pal'O'Mine Stables, the Gentlest Horses in the County_. She looked to him.

"We're out," he said. "You can let us out here."

Delmar shook his head and turned the truck right. "I'm taking her home anyway," he said, bumping Sylvi with his elbow.

Orihime sighed, letting herself lean closer to Renji as the turn of the truck brought on another wave of nausea.

"What grade are you in?" Sylvi asked. She glanced to Renji, did a quick estimate of him, and looked back to Orihime. "Are you registered for classes yet?"

"When does school start?" Renji asked as Orihime took a breath to answer. He hadn't thought about school. Neither had Fourth Division, it seemed.

"August 17th," Sylvi said, still looking at Orihime.

"Senior. Last year, right?" Orihime said hopefully.

Sylvi nodded. "You'll be in my class."

For a few moments Delmar drove around the curving road that both Renji and Orihime recognized as leading to the small house they shared.

Renji suppressed a groan at the thought. The combination of school, his new cohabitation, his alleged new job with Ogihara, and the accident, among other things, were starting to catch up with him. He looked to Orihime's knee as it touched his. Faint blue marks at the side of her leg were becoming visible. He looked to her, but she was oblivious to the blooming bruises.

He glanced at Sylvi and Delmar. School would at least give Orihime something to do, keep her mind off whatever protocol Urahara and Captain Unohana – and probably Captain Kurotsuchi, eventually – forced on her. Maybe it would be a good distraction for her.

He looked up as the truck made another turn and he recognized the mailbox sequestered among the overgrowth of foliage at a driveway now in view.

"We live here," he said, pointing to the mailbox.

"Here?" There was a giggle in Sylvi's tone. "Both of you live here?" She looked to Orihime, and then Renji. "Here? Together?"

"Drop it," Delmar said in a low tone to her.

Orihime didn't look at Renji, but a sudden pink flushed her cheeks.

Renji put a hand to the door latch. "You can drop us off here."

"You sure?" Delmar let the truck slow near the mailbox.

"Yeah." Renji opened the door. "Thanks for the ride."

"Any time." Delmar turned in the seat as Renji and Orihime exited the truck. His arm settled around Sylvi as she remained at his side. "If you need a ride anywhere, let us know."

"We're neighbors," Sylvi added, wiggling a finger at the drive. "I am, anyway. I live right in back of you."

Orihime shot a look down the driveway.

"Past the woods; about a quarter mile," Sylvi added. "There's a horse trail that runs right back. Hey," she said, smiling at Orihime, "do you ride?"

Orihime looked back to her. "Oh, well ... horses?"

Sylvi nodded.

Orihime shook her head.

"Come over and I'll teach you," the blonde girl said, words quickening at the topic. "We've got the best learner horses. It'll be fun. You know, when you feel like it."

Orihime nodded slowly, looking to Renji.

He gave Sylvi and Delmar a wave. "Thanks for the ride."

"Any time." Delmar tugged on a strand of Sylvi's hair. "Let her know when you need a ride anywhere."

Sylvi made a lunge for the glove compartment and grabbed a pen and a scrap of paper. She quickly scribbled a number on it and handed it out the window to Orihime. "That's my number. If you need anything, let me know."

Orihime looked at the number. "Thank you."

Renji turned her down the driveway. "Thanks."

Orihime read off the numbers as they walked the driveway up to the house. It seemed to Renji that they'd left days ago, the accident giving him a sense of limbo that usually came only after spending time in the Living World and then going back to Soul Society.

"They were nice," Orihime said as they went into the house. "I'm glad we didn't have to walk all the way."

Renji was looking around the rooms at they went through the living room and into the kitchen, trying to detect anything out of place. There was nothing amiss, just the growing feeling of misplacement he got when he was in gigai and, now, without the usual mode of transportation.

"We'll get another car," he said as Orihime watched him look out the back door at the still yard in the late day sun. He turned back to her, catching her curious attention.

"You're looking for them," she said hesitantly. "The escaped prisoners. Aren't you?"

He nodded. "We hit one," he said, the words out before he could think them through. He saw the instant fear leap into her face and wished he'd remained silent about Morgan. "Don't worry about it, Orihime. The one we hit isn't going anywhere. Probably busted up bad."

She nodded, eyes going to the window over the sink.

"Come on," he said, taking her arm and turning her to the staircase. "Go up and have a bubble bath and count your bruises, and I'll call Captain Unohana and tell her the news. We've got to have transportation here."

She nodded, climbing the staircase in front of him. "Maybe a truck?"

He grinned, following, shrugging as they reached the turn at the top of the steps. "Maybe."

At the end of the hall he stepped ahead of her and looked into the bedroom she was using. There was nothing out of line, the window pulled nearly closed, making the room too warm. He nodded and looked to Orihime, catching a shadow of unease in her eyes.

"Just checking," he said.

She nodded.

"You're sure you're all right?" he asked, eyes flicking over her face. No bruises, no slight abrasions.

"Just a little headache," she said, looking to his headband. "Are you okay, Renji?"

"Yeah." He pulled his communicator from his back pocket. It was in two pieces.

He quickly stuck it back in his jeans pocket, but she'd already seen the damage. Her face fell as she crossed her arms tightly at her chest.

"Have your bath. I'll fix this," he said, trying to sound more casual about it than he felt. "Did Isane leave her information about Ogihara or anything?"

She nodded, freeing one arm to point to the room Isane had used. "In there."

He saw her fingers edge to one elbow where a bruise was beginning to show. _Damn mountain,_ he thought. _Damn Morgan_. "I'll get caught up."

* * *

By the time Szayel got to the ravine where he'd seen the vultures, he'd lost most sense of direction, but had picked up a slight sense of her. It was infuriating, the diminished signal he got as he neared Orihime Inoue. He could only attribute it to the tampering that had been done to his subject.

His host was near onto starvation, and it was getting more difficult to ignore the weakness that made his steps stumble. If in his usual realm, he simply would have devoured a fraccíon, but here, here he was without. Want of water was also becoming a factor.

He halted at a stand of birch trees to collect his thoughts, and for a few moments could hear only the loud, thin beat of his host's heart as it attempted to keep him upright. The Living were shallow beings, but in his lessened state keeping one running without sustenance was proving a chore.

A shifting of branches ahead made Szayel look to the next stand of clumpy cedars. A hacking cough echoed out, followed by a string of curses.

The possibilities of another choice of host made Szayel head in that direction.

He found Morgan slouched to a tree trunk, sitting and cursing, one meaty hand at his side where his black shirt was soaked with blood. The prisoner's hair was kept back with a navy rag, exposing a hard face that had seen far too much of life on the inside to go back. A lesser man would have been incapacitated by being hit by the car, but Morgan was stout, both physically and mentally.

But when he saw his former inmate Nyles stumble from the stand of birches he hadn't a clue as to what possessed the slighter form. All he saw was Nyles, and in a condition that should have been buried.

"You look like hell," he grunted as what appeared as Nyles came toward him.

Szayel studied the larger inmate, deciding Morgan a better specimen. "You remember me."

Morgan frowned at the exposed intestines at Nyles' side, standing up as the smaller inmate neared him. "Shit, man, what happened to you?"

Szayel was in no mood to share the details. Despite Morgan's injuries, it appeared he was in better condition than his current host. Morgan was clearly better fed, and at least on his feet.

"I'm going to make a bargain with you," Szayel said.

Morgan laughed, his hand pressing harder at his side where assorted broken ribs rebelled at the movement. "I don't bargain, Nyles."

Szayel smiled. "I'll leave you the use of yourself when I don't need you. In exchange, you'll give me what any good fraccíon renders its master."

Morgan stood to his full height. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He'd barely finished speaking than Nyles dropped to the ground in front of him. There was a flicker of something around him, and then Morgan felt an invasion as never before. Without warning he lost the use of everything, hands to feet, mind included, and most of his thoughts abandoned him as Szayel forced himself into the inmate's mind.

Once ingrained in his new host's form and psyche, Szayel found new vigor. New pains, too, but Morgan offered much better energy and strength than Nyles had.

He shoved aside the pestering mumbles Morgan tried to argue with him. He took a moment to weed through the inmate's mind, casting away the unnecessary thoughts until he came to more recent images of memory.

Szayel pulled Morgan's face into a grin as the accident flashed into his mind.

"Well, now," he said with an unusually musical lilt in his voice for the inmate. The accident played as if in slow motion in his mind, and Szayel paused the image as he thought of the car, the windshield, and Orihime sitting in the front seat.

"Very good," he murmured, nodding.

He kept the image intact as he grinned at the girl, and then focused on Renji Abarai beside her. A sudden lurch of pain caught the torso of his new host, but Szayel was delighting in his new memories too much to be bothered with pain.

He nodded, pushing into motion Morgan's body, leaving the near dead Nyles among the grass and leaves as he relished in finding the girl.

Szayel smiled, pleased with his new habitation and discovery. "Very good indeed."

* * *

**A/N:** _Thanks for reading and reviewing, and Happy New Year!_


	7. Four Simple Words

Renji gave up trying to fix the dismembered Soul Society communicator after spending nearly two hours on it. He'd gotten a fragmented message through to Isane that night before an attempt at adjusting a frequent shift resulted in further damage, and more pieces. The best he could manage was to reassemble it after the initial call left it inoperable. After a patch job of masking tape he'd gotten another brief call through to Division Four, but was able to only get a few more pertinent facts out to the acting fourth seated officer before there'd been a crackling sound and the bottom casing had fallen off the device.

This time there was a new rattling in the communicator that promised new damage. That left him without a means of contact, and except for the last-call distress signal function, which was permanently jammed into the device casing from his desperation. He hoped Isane's promise of sending resources were what he hoped. He also hoped she understood what he meant by paperwork for school. She hadn't heard everything he said.

"_...send someone with that,"_ was all he heard in return. He hoped it meant what he thought it did.

The most he could do was call in the accident to the local police station that night and report it to the car rental agency, which was not happy.

He was determined to give the communicator another go the next morning. He awoke to fog that hung between the mountains, enveloping the two-story house in an eerie damp blanket. It was still early, so he dressed and glanced down the hall to Orihime's room at the end. The door was slightly ajar, as she'd left it the night before, and quiet.

Thoughts of the accident left him in a sour mood, and being unable to contact Soul Society with any certainty wasn't helping any. He kept his grousing on mute as he headed down the hall. He paused at Orihime's door, listening, hearing nothing. He assumed she was still sleeping, as there were no telltale smells drifting up the staircase that warned him of breakfast being made. He inched the door open enough to see the floor of her room. Realizing that wasn't helping him any, he cleared his throat, waiting for some response, like a threat or flying hairbrush.

There was nothing, so he peeked around the door. Orihime was still in bed, burrowed in the blanket and sheet, her sleeping form making a pleasing shape under the bedclothes. She faced him, buried somewhere under a mound of auburn tumbleweed.

For a minute Renji still wasn't sure she was simply sleeping; he knew she'd gotten pretty knocked around in the car during the accident. She hadn't given him a bruise count after her bath last night, but he'd seen a few and heard her mumblings as she climbed the stairs.

Her fingers closed around the blanket she'd pulled to her chin, a slight movement that told Renji she was just sleeping. Nothing more.

He turned down the hall.

He took the window out his room to reach the rooftop. He learned last night – with Orihime's help – that that was the best spot to get better reception. He had settled there after she went for her bath, finding the place near the chimney that she'd told him Isane used most when she contacted Soul Society.

The shingles were damp in the morning light stretching through the fog, some patched with inexact pieces, showing the house's age in the poor misty light. Renji pulled the faulty communicator from his pocket and sat down. The quietness around him was broken by a few birds and insects.

Some the biting kind, he discovered as a few mosquitoes buzzed him. He swatted them away, and then scowled at the communicator, but pleased to see a green light now glowing on it. He carefully adjusted the frequency setting to the _Best Lock_ position, figuring any port was good in a storm, and was awarded with a loud static, and then a voice in mid sentence.

"..._don't want to talk to that tight ass_," Ichigo's voice interrupted the foggy morning, sounding especially loud in the opaque air. "_He's just gonna give me shit about my age and still being in school. We could wait_ –"

"_Ichigo_!" Rukia's voice chirped from the communicator. "_He's a captain in Soul Society and the head of my family. A noble family, mind you. Don't speak about him that way! Show some respect!"_

Renji growled and tried to punch down the volume on the device but that button was already down, way down, in the keypad. He mashed a thumb over the speaker part.

Ichigo's voice said something that sounded like a question, followed by Rukia's higher pitched annoyance.

Renji tried to adjust the frequency, but the _Locked_ button was highlighted on the screen, indicating that the signal was locked for best reception. It was, however, a signal, and his only hope at the moment.

He took his thumb off the speaker and held the phone to his ear. "Hey," he said, "Rukia?"

"_...guess I can do it. When do you want to break the news?" _Ichigo's voice said.

Renji gripped the communicator tighter, making the housing crack. "I'm cutting in, Kurosaki, so save your dignity."

A loud snap made him hold the phone away, then cover it with a hand as he glanced to the other side of the roof where he knew Orihime's window was.

He gritted his teeth and took his palm from the phone.

"..._love you, too, Rukia_."

Renji's eyes narrowed on the device, matched by his fingers closing into a crunch around it. A line of static buzzed out. "You damn bastard," he muttered at it, wishing the communicator was Ichigo's neck. He was still glaring at it when he heard a sound from below and looked to the edge of the roofline.

The back of Orihime's head appeared below the eaves trough, hair still tangled. She leaned out of the window more, and then turned to look up at him. "Renji?" She wiped the hair from her face and tried to smooth it away. "I heard Ichigo's voice."

"Damn it," he grumbled, burying the communicator speaker against his leg, just in case. "Just a crossed frequency. Nothing, really."

She turned to look into the backyard, still in her sleeping camisole and shorts. "It sounded so close."

"Maybe you were dreaming," he added lamely, wanting t fling the communicator as far as he could, which at the moment would be half a mile. "I'll be in in a minute."

She nodded. "Okay."

She disappeared back under the roofline and Renji waited a moment before easing the communicator away from his leg. Now the casing was damaged even worse from his fierce grip on it.

Not tight enough to swallow down the words Ichigo had uttered, not quick enough to cut off any nonsense neither Renji nor Orihime would have wanted to hear. He considered chucking it into the thick woods that wove back behind the house. See if that Sylvi girl's house was within hurling distance.

He stared at the deformed metal and plastic device, mentally cursing it for acknowledging what he hadn't wanted to confront. He knew Rukia had been seeing more of Ichigo, had been finding feeble reasons for her little trips to the Living World that she didn't fully explain. Renji had nodded at her excuses. He'd come to terms with her, and _that_, but to hear it now rankled nerves he'd long since deadened.

He cast a sharp eye to the eaves trough that lined the roof where he'd last seen Orihime. Maybe she hadn't heard it. Maybe she'd assume it was a dream.

Maybe he could pretend that, too.

Inside her room, Orihime dressed for the already warming day. The fog was lifting, adding a layer of unneeded warmth to the day promising to scorch anyone within the sun's sight. She picked out a pair of cuffed denim shorts and one of her more concealing of tank tops. If they were going into town it would require walking, and if Renji wanted to look at vehicles, that meant interaction with people.

She pulled the lavender shirt over her head, settling it over her waist as she watched her reflection in the nearly full length mirror on the inside of the closet. She knew it didn't show on her, that shadow of an uncertain future that had sunken at her chest, but she felt like eyes were staring at her when they were in public. She brushed out her hair, watching for signs of any darkening at the skin above the top's neckline as the tangles came out of her hair. There was nothing, no threat of Hollow hole. And some of the attention, she knew, was for more normal reasons. She'd gotten used to that from boys and men, but it didn't mean she wanted it.

She heard a _beep-beep_ of a truck backing up from outside, and then the quick footfalls of Renji's steps on the staircase. She hurried to the bathroom to brush her teeth before heading downstairs.

By the time she got to the main floor Renji was outside on the front porch, watching a tow truck expertly back their wounded car up the driveway. It looked even worse when righted and forced up on the flatbed of the truck, as if on display. She looked to Renji. He was scowling at the car, eyes on the passenger side that was missing a door.

He glanced to her. "How're you feeling? Any better after yesterday?"

She nodded quickly. "A little sore. Are you okay?"

He nodded, looking back to the portly truck driver that had parked the truck and was rounding the front of it. The man was red-faced, wiping his brow with a well-used handkerchief as he waddled toward them, a clipboard in one hand.

"Howdy!" he called, smiling, nodding to Orihime. "'Morning. You're the Joneses?"

Renji reached into his back pocket, his consumer sense kicking in. "Yeah. How much?"

The man chuckled. "That's covered by the rental agency. I just need your signature."

Orihime looked down the driveway, feeling a tickle in her chest that she couldn't pinpoint. Not a pain, not a constriction like she had at other times before she'd gone to Urahara's shop. Something different. Her eyes went over the vicinity, searching for anything that would have triggered the tiny flutter in her chest. There was nothing different, nothing except the last of the wispy fog fading away in the heating air. The feeling disappeared just as quickly as she put a hand to her collar, breathing slowly.

Maybe it was just the change in the vials Urahara had given her to take. That was it. She sighed as the truck driver spoke to Renji, her attention at the end of the driveway where it made a turn as a man appeared there. He was thin, lanky in build, wearing worn jeans and a gray plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked to her, then paused and looked back to driveway behind him. A few seconds later Widow Mayes slowly made her way, again in a cotton dress and apron.

Renji looked to them. "Who the hell is that with her?"

The truck diver took the form Renji handed back to him. "Widow Mayes and the local handyman." He smiled when Renji and Orihime looked to him. "Small town here. Everyone talks," he said, mostly to the arches of black tattoos peeking between Renji's headband and shocking red hair. He heaved a shrug. "Probably see a lot of Reese, seeing as you're living in Widow Mayes' rental house."

Renji looked to Orihime, whose eyes belied her surprise. He nodded. "I didn't realize the house had that many problems," he said, trying to sound casual.

The truck driver waved a thick hand to the old woman and thin man as they approached. "Thank you for your business," he said, winking at Orihime before turning and starting back to the vehicle.

Orihime looked to Renji. "Isane didn't tell you?" she asked lowly in Japanese.

He shook his head as the truck engine started and it eased down the driveway, slowing and meandering onto the grass to go around the two figures that had already moved off the drive.

"I didn't know," Orihime said, switching back to English as the old woman met them.

Mayes squinted at them, then let her aged eyes rest on the heavily dented car missing most of its windows. "You kids okay?"

Renji nodded. "We're fine."

Mayes gave Orihime a quick study, nodding. "This is Reese. He'll fix your washing machine."

The man beside her tipped his baseball cap, his late-twenties face appearing leathery after a life of bad habits that weren't getting any better. "Howdy."

The stench of stale smoke pervaded Reese's movements, his quick grin too tight on his face. Renji found himself daring the man to even look at Orihime wrong, wanting to break something or someone after the last twenty-four hours.

"Oh, good," Orihime said, surprising Renji.

He darted a look to her.

"Ain't cycling out, I imagine," Reese said. "Had that problem before. An easy fix."

Mayes put her hands on her hips, which only gave her the silhouette of a cotton square. "You need a ride to town? We're going that way in a spell."

Renji debated his few options, liking neither of them, but inclined to think his new landlady might be the nosey type if she didn't get taken up on the help she offered. He didn't want nosiness, especially not from someone so close, with keys to their house. "Yeah, we could use a lift. We've got some arrangements to make."

She nodded, one eye squinting more than the other at him. "No rentals in town, but there's a used car lot. Talk to Bradley and he'll give you a decent deal."

Renji looked to Orihime. "We'll find new transportation in town."

She nodded, smiling.

* * *

After a very short shot at a breakfast of meager instant oatmeal it was another ride in another truck, this time to town, in a newer truck than Delmar had driven, but already smelling faintly of smoke. Renji figured Reese was to blame. So did Mayes.

"I told you no smoking in my truck," she said in a voice rasping from the earlier fog. She looked far up at him as he drove.

"Sorry, ma'am," Reese said automatically.

Beside Mayes, Orihime was sandwiched near Renji.

He glanced at the old woman. She gave him a sharp look in return, then patted Orihime's unsuspecting knee.

"You took a roll, I hear," she said, voice softening as much as it could. "It was on the police scanner last night. Lots of deer out now. You get banged up any?"

"No," Orihime said, adding a smile for good measure. "We're fine."

"You going to school here?"

Orihime nodded. "I have to register yet."

Mayes didn't look at Renji but he could feel her thinking about him. He didn't like it, figuring she was judging, and judging in that unliberal mindset about living arrangements.

"You shouldn't be wandering on your own, young girl like you," she said, eyes on the town as it came into view around a sharp corner of mountain. "Got some nasty people on the loose."

"She doesn't go anywhere by herself," Renji said.

"Good. Keep it that way."

Before Renji could respond with something he knew he should keep to himself, she made a wrinkled smile. "Most folks around here are nice, but you can't be too careful with trouble on the prowl. Better not to have a girl alone. You're staying at the house now?"

He nodded, and then decided to curtail any complications down the road Isane might have overlooked. "My sister will be around sometimes. I think you've already seen her. Tall, short light hair," he said, taking a moment to visualize exactly what color Isane's hair was.

The widow nodded at him as Reese followed the main drag through town and pulled the truck to a curb next to a hardware store. Orihime looked up at Renji, nodding slightly at his story.

"I rented out to her aunt. Your aunt," Mayes said as Reese parked the truck. "Una Hana."

Renji grinned. "Yeah. Aunt Una."

They exited the truck, the widow taking a moment to pull her arthritis stricken legs out one at a time. Renji and Orihime stood on the sidewalk, both looking to the used car lot at the end of town that had red and blue banners flying overhead in the warm breeze.

"You need a ride back, let us know," Mayes said, straightening her apron as Reese took her elbow and ushered her up the curbside. "We'll be here or at the feed mill."

Renji looked to where she pointed at a three-story off-white building on the other end of town. It was in need of a paint job, and had been built on a river originally, but the river had dropped to a creek with the lowering water level, and was now more storage and feed store than actual mill.

"Thanks," he said. "We plan to replace the car today."

Orihime tugged at his arm and pointed across the street. "That's our bank."

They parted company with Reese and the widow and headed across the street, with Orihime talking non-stop.

"...the first time, but Isane had no problems after that," she said, recalling previous trips to the bank as they stepped onto the opposite sidewalk. She stuck her hands in her back pockets as they walked. Renji saw her frown, a frown he was familiar with, but she quickly smiled when she saw him watching. "Is your communicator working now?"

"Kind of. When it wants to."

They followed the sidewalk to the bank, the few pedestrians along the way nodding and adding a '_Howdy'_ as they passed.

"Did you get any calls through this morning?"

Orihime's voice broke as she said it, and Renji guessed at what she really wanted to know. "It was locked onto one frequency," he said, seeing her lips fight to remain neutral. Her eyes shifted to the bank as they reached it.

"I thought I heard Ichigo's voice this morning."

He opened the bank door, not wanting to comment or answer, but she stopped in the doorway, awaiting on something from him.

"He was on another call. I wasn't talking to him, Orihime." He'd tried to say it as unbiased as possible, but the irritation seeped into his tone.

She sighed, nodding.

"Let's see if our money is here," he said, putting one hand on her shoulder and gently escorting her into motion.

He felt another sigh pull at her shoulder, her posture sag a bit under his hand. He didn't try to find the right thing to say; chances were his mood would eat into any good intentions he had, so remaining silent on the subject, for once, was the better option.

It took less than ten minutes to find out that Soul Society had come through, and their recent deposit of what Renji hoped to be enough for a truck was there and available. The bank cashier gave him a shrewd look at his request to withdraw said funds, but when Renji presented the identification she asked for, she filled an envelope with bills and pushed it across the counter to him.

Encouraged that a truck was within reach, Orihime and Renji set off back onto the sidewalk and found the used car lot.

It was already mid-morning, and the skimpy breakfast of oatmeal was wearing off and Orihime's stomach noticed. She crossed her arms as they walked, trying to keep the grumblings of hunger to a minimum.

"You want to get something to eat first?" Renji asked as a muffled growl echoed from her.

She held her arms tighter across her stomach. "No. I'm fine."

The car lot was already busy when the got there. It was located on the side of town where the mountain sloped steeply behind the modest parking lot, an assortment of vehicles, most trucks, lined up and freshly washed and sparkling in the hot sun. A pleased grin crossed Renji's face as he found the row of not-so-new trucks in the row farthest back, behind the pricier prospects.

Three men were at one truck, one lying underneath as the other two, one in a causal suit, talked. The hood was raised, and the salesman in the suit was gesturing and nodding.

Renji and Orihime stopped at the first truck, a bright red one with balloons hanging off the side view mirror. He looked at the large sticker on the window, hopes dropping. "Damn, this might not work, Orihime." He frowned at the sticker, the row of black marked numbers seeming to laugh at him. "I don't care if its yen or dollars, it's not worth that much."

She giggled, noting where his stare was focused. "That's the phone number, Renji."

He looked closer at the smaller print on it. She was right. "Hell, I hope so." He looked down the line of newer trucks, and then to the back line. Near the three bay garage a cobalt blue Ford early model pick-up was parked, no stickers on its windows yet. "What do you think about that one?"

She looked to the blue truck. "Is it for sale?"

Renji glanced to another salesman walking quickly their way. "We'll find out. Come on."

They outdistanced the salesman, making a beeline for the blue truck at the garage. A grin spread over Renji's face as they neared. It lacked the shine of the other trucks already lined up for inspection, but there was something about it that appealed to him. Maybe it was the knobby tires.

"Ooh, I like the color," Orihime cooed when they got close to it. "It looks like a lake." She smiled as they stopped and he looked into the open driver's window.

It was a standard Ford pick-up, less showy than some of the others in the front. Orihime stood on tiptoe to see into the open window.

"Hello! Hello! Can I help you folks?"

Renji looked to the salesman catching up to them, a name tag reading _Bradley_ on his suit coat lapel. He was middle-aged, balding, a friendly, unforced smile on his face. Renji nodded. "How much money for this truck?"

Bradley scratched his temple. "It hasn't been detailed yet, not really for sale. You sure you're not in the market for something newer?"

Renji shook his head, pulling from his back pocket the pertinent information Isane had said he'd need. "How much?"

Orihime leaned her arms on the driver's window edge as the men talked on, most of the chat lost on her as she looked at the navy and gray interior of the truck. She heard and felt a bump, and then the hood of the truck lifted and Renji and Bradley disappeared from her view at the front.

Renji listened to the man, wishing he knew more about what he was supposed to ask, supposed to know about what he was looking at under the truck's hood. All he saw was a mess of hoses, wires, and a large hunk of metal between the wheel wells.

The salesman named a sum, and Renji nodded, handing him a few slips of paper. "We'll take it."

The salesman's face claimed an incredulous look, glancing first to the papers and then back to Renji. "You're sure? You don't want to take it for a drive first?"

It sounded like something they should do, so Renji nodded. "Does it run?" He looked to where Orihime was leaning half into the window of the driver's side door.

"Runs fine." Bradley smiled wider and waved a finger at him. "Since we're talking cash, I'll get the paperwork started and swap your insurance." He looked at the card Renji had given him. "Same information? Renji Jones?"

Renji nodded.

"I'll get this run and get you set up, Mr. Jones."

Bradley left with a whistle, and Renji gave Orihime's form a quick look before he dropped to his knees and crawled under the truck. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing lying on his back beneath the truck, but it seemed to be the thing to do. He found himself staring back at the dirty, greasy underside of the vehicle, facing an unknown assortment of metal.

He looked to Orihime's sandals as they shifted on the pavement at the opposite door from where he lay, watched her walk to the back of the truck bed.

"Don't go far, Orihime."

"I won't."

Renji looked from tire well to tire well, sighing in his ignorance. A moment later Orihime's feet appeared near his legs under the truck, and then she knelt.

"What do you think, Renji?" she asked, dipping her head to see him, ponytail falling beside her.

He stared back at the floor pan overhead. "Everything seems to be here."

To his surprise, she tuned on her back and wedged herself beside him under the truck, scooting carefully on the cement, chest barely clearing some of the lines and metal crossing beneath the pick-up.

"You shouldn't be under here," he said as she eased up next to him. "You'll get dirty, Orihime."

Her eyes moved over the dusty metal above them. "I've never been under a truck before."

He chuckled. "Neither have I."

She frowned at the nearest heavy duty spring over a front tire. "What does all this stuff do? Do all trucks look like this?"

He sighed. "Probably."

She glanced down the body of the truck to the bed and he took the opportunity to gauge the distance between the highest part of her torso and the lowest part of the truck.

"Uh, you're going to get dusty," he said, feeling it necessary to remind her. She sighed, the movement leaving an additional half-inch clearance between her and the truck.

He saw the familiar pout at her lips, recognizing it even with her face mostly turned from him.

"I heard what Ichigo said over your phone this morning, Renji," she said, her voice soft but not quite weak. She slowly turned her head to see him, eyes resting on his black t-shirt with the sneaker logo on his chest for a moment before looking to his face. "He was talking to Rukia."

"Don't think about it, Orihime," he said, voice lowering as men's laughter could be heard from across the lot. "You've got enough to think about."

"Does it bother you?" Her eyes clouded for a moment, but her voice was steady. "I mean, Rukia."

He looked back to the truck's underside, not caring that she was looking back at him amid the dust and greasy. "No. She's like a little sister, and that's how I'm going to look at it." He nudged her side with an elbow, watching her smile a little. "That means I can kick his ass if he gets out of line."

She giggled, the sound more relief than laugh. "I guess it's best; that they're happy."

"Really?" He searched her eyes for the wounded humor he'd seen before. She usually hid it, but he realized, over the time he'd known Kurosaki, that when he wasn't watching Rukia he'd been watching Orihime's reaction to Ichigo. Usually it was a natural tendency to look away from Rukia's newfound attentions, and usually that meant Orihime was there, too, also witnessing, hanging back out of the way. "Uryuu convince you of that?"

Her eyes flicked to his quickly. "No. Not really. He, he's a good friend." Her fingers closed over her stomach as a growl surfaced from it.

"Come on," he said, glancing to the concave lavender material beneath her hand before looking to her slight blush. "Let's buy this thing and get something to eat."

She nodded. "Okay."


	8. Within Reach

The tedious job of paperwork for the truck's purchase was made less time intensive by the fact that Renji was actually purchasing the vehicle and not financing it – which went relatively smoothly, thanks to Fourth Division's adaptability and Isane's interpretation of Renji's cryptic message to Soul Society – but it still meant a wait of two hours while the truck was cleaned up.

"Make it presentable," Bradley told them, a smile on his face at one of his easiest sales ever, nodding to Orihime. "We'll run a safety check and then," he dangled the lone key from a metal ring in his hand, watching Renji's impatient face, "it's all yours. Drive it home in two hours, okie-dokie?"

Renji gave him a confused look at the term, and then assumed a response. "Yeah. We'll be back then."

He turned Orihime from the used car lot's back office where the truck was still parked and they started to the sidewalk near the newer trucks and street. "I guess that's it. Let's find something to eat."

She nodded, arms still crossed over her stomach to suffocate any grumblings. "We'll really be able to take the truck back today?"

He shrugged as they met up to the sidewalk that edged the front lot. "Looks like it." Across the street a couple of guys that looked to be high school age glanced their way, watching Orihime beside Renji.

Renji pushed her to the inside of the sidewalk nearer to the small shops lining the sunny walkway, tossing a narrow glare back at the opposite side of the street. "What do you think about school? I put the word in the Fourth Division, kinda, and it looks like they're considering sending you some documentation for enrolling." He watched a slow smile cross her face as she mulled the idea over. "You don't have to go, Orihime, but it would give you something to do. Keep you busy, but if you don't feel up to it, you don't have to go."

Her smile set into a line as she nodded. "There isn't much to do here," she admitted, nodding as they passed two elderly women coming the opposite way. The women gave Renji a quick appraisal, but neither spoke as they passed. "I don't have to go?"

He reconsidered the thought, scowling when he realized he didn't really know. "I'm not sure, actually. Legally, I don't know." Sour thoughts of his last encounter with the American school systems and authorities surfaced. "It's probably an age thing."

They'd followed the sidewalk far enough to see the carved wooden Indian standing outside the door of Pubby's Grub. At this distance Renji could see that the figure was very detailed, right down to the real metal tomahawk in its wooden grip. He looked to Orihime as she slowed walking, her steps stopping as she looked in the wide window of Shad's Bait and Pool Shop.

Inside they could see Sylvi standing behind a counter at a cash register. Orihime stepped closer to the door, eyes moving over the walls and shelves inside covered with fishing accessories and trophy mounts of open-mouthed fish.

She turned to Renji, smiling. "It's Sylvi. Can we say hi?"

He didn't really want to, not with Pubby's in sight a few shops ahead, but he nodded and opened the door.

A bell jingled above them as they stepped in. Odors of moist earth, bait, and minnow water greeted them in the cramped shop. The walls were lined with packages of rubber worms and fishing lures, fake crickets and small bobbers and weights, and everywhere was the sound of trickling water. The shop was long, divided into two sections by a half wall of corkboard sporting pictures of locals holding strings of fish and a few enormous catches from the shop's sponsored contests.

Renji kept an eye out, for what, he wasn't sure, but there was an inkling in the atmosphere he couldn't decipher. Maybe it was the proximity of so much merchandise in so little space, but there was something niggling at him.

At the counter Sylvi pushed aside the magazine she'd been reading and looked to them. She smiled quickly, waving them over. "Hi! Hey, you got to town. Did Delmar give you a lift in?"

Orihime shook her head. "Hi. No, Mrs... Uh, Widow Mayes and Reese gave us a ride in."

Sylvi brushed the few black dirt traces from the hem of her heather gray t-shirt that read "Shad's" in a logo made of earthworm letters with night-crawlers sitting in lawn chairs by an in-ground swimming pool. "Yeah, Widow Mayes is nice enough." She glanced to Renji looking around the shop and then back to Orihime as a chime sounded from the rear section of the shop. "Come on," she said, stepping around the counter. "There's someone at the pool side."

Orihime looked to Renji as he nodded. "I'm stepping outside a minute," he told her in Japanese. "Don't go anywhere alone."

She nodded and followed Sylvi, trying to read more in his expression. She looked back as the blonde girl led them to the back of the shop, seeing Renji head out the shop's front door to the sidewalk.

"You all settled in now?" Sylvi asked, weaving their way around the corkboard of photos to where a second large room opened to a very different display of merchandise, accompanied by stronger chemical smells.

"Oh, yes. All settled in," Orihime said. Her eyes went over the shelves, here lined with buckets and containers of chlorine and other substances. Goggles, snorkels, water testing chemicals and treatments were packed on the short shelves where a back door to the shop led to the alley behind the rows of shops parallel to the main street in front.

At the back door two boys around eight years of age were attempting to blow up a swimming inner tube with a bike air pump while the tube was still in its package.

"Get out!" Sylvi screamed at them, grabbing the nearest weapon, which happened to be a hot pink foam pool noodle, brandishing it at the two youths who giggled at her and dropped the ripped open flotation package.

Orihime flinched as Sylvi brought the foam noodle down over the nearest boy's head, sending him howling out the door with the second boy on his heels.

Sylvi caught the door as it slammed shut behind the boys, their insults ringing through the alley. She shook her head and looked back to Orihime.

"They're in here a couple of times a week, trying to get me fired," she grumbled, replacing the noodle with the other colorful foam pool accessories.

"Oh, I'm sure they mean no harm," Orihime said, eyes resting behind Sylvi where a wall chart in full color depicted the variances of water harness and treatment options was tacked beside a poster showing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and first aid procedures for drowning.

"Yeah, they do. Wouldn't be so bad if that biggest brat wasn't my cousin," she said, straightening a shelf of chlorine tablets.

Orihime blinked at her. "Cousin?"

Sylvi nodded. "They come in here and loosen all the lids and blow up the inflatable floaties – still in the packages – until they pop. Brats."

Orihime glanced back to the door.

"I didn't mean to get nosey yesterday," Sylvi said, shrugging as they headed back to the bait side of the shop. "Just surprised me. You know, you and ... Ranji? Renji. You know, living together. It's a small town. We don't get much ... unusual out here." She offered a smile. "Most people here have always been here. Hardly anyone is from out of town, much less Japan."

"Well, it's nice here," Orihime said, smiling more. "Except for those men who escaped from the prison."

Sylvi looked to the window past Orihime where Renji was watching the street as the two high school guys passed by across the two lanes again. She nodded at Orihime. "The whole town's in high guard. Delmar won't let me even walk to Grubby's on my own." She smiled, sighing. "I kind of like it, him caring and all, but he drives for the shop and he isn't always around. He goes to college in a few weeks, and I already miss him, you know?"

Orihime nodded, but didn't really know. "Yes. It's hard to be away."

Beneath the glass counter amid lures on display was a newspaper article under a second glass panels. Pressed there was the same article Orihime had seen of the four inmates. Sylvi tapped the photos of Butler and McDarrow. "These two were spotted yesterday in the next county, so that's good."

Orihime looked at the photo of Nyles.

Sylvi's finger rested on it. "This one they thought they caught, but it was some other guy." She laughed, looking up. "I heard he had a number sixty-nine tattooed on his cheek. Can you imagine that?"

Orihime giggled nervously. "Oh...no."

They both looked to the window as Mayes' truck pulled up beside Renji at the curb.

Outside, Renji turned his attention from the faint waft of disturbance in the atmosphere to the truck. Mayes' aged face looked back at him from the passenger window, and for a moment he wondered if she was getting ready to pass on into another afterlife and _that_ was what he was picking up on. In the truck bed he saw two fifty pound bags of livestock feed.

Mayes squinted at him. "Howdy. You and your girl need a ride back to the house yet?"

Renji didn't automatically correct her. "No, we've got a truck lined up in an hour. Thanks for the tip on Bradley."

She wrinkled a smile at him, chuckling. "Good. Okay then."

Behind the steering wheel Reese had bent to see through the passenger window. "You sure? Sheriff report has those jailbirds on the move in these parts. Ain't a day to be out walking."

Renji nodded. "We're fine. Thanks."

Mayes sized him. "Okay then."

The pick-up moved on and Renji was left staring back at the two teen boys across the street. They were both on the large side, even for American teens, wearing t-shirts leftover from an early football practice, and Renji had a sudden urge to set a few matters straight with them, in preparation for Orihime's entry into the school system.

Before he could decided exactly what he wanted to do, from one side of the street a long line of cars suddenly rounded the corner, moving at a snail's pace, a hearse leading the way. As the funeral procession neared and the other few cars of the street stopped and pulled to the side, the thin sense of something recently departed drifted to Renji, and he assumed that was what he'd felt.

The cars eased up the street.

He watched with mild interest, the shinigami in him feeling like he should. He heard the shop bell from behind him and looked to his side as Orihime joined him.

Her eyes seemed especially violet in the day's bright late-morning sun that seemed to mock the funeral procession's mourning. "How sad," she murmured, watching the cars and trucks roll slowly by. "Like a parade for sorrow."

He nodded, not quite feeling as she did about it. "Let's get something to eat."

Pubby's Grub wasn't quite busy for lunch yet, but the brunch crowd was lingering. The décor was casual and half bar, but no one was drinking, most of the customers on the last pieces of pie at the counter where the grill was firing for lunch.

Orihime and Renji found a booth amid the tan and rust colored furnishings as the acting hostess gave them a quick wave from the lunch counter. They took their seats, each looking around at the motif of hunting and fishing trophies and photos mixed with antiques lining the walls.

Renji looked to the bar as two middle-aged men gave him a shrewd look, and then a longer lingering study of Orihime. He glanced at Orihime, who was already hidden behind a large foldout menu she'd plucked from the napkin holder.

"Any news from that Sylvi girl?" He opened a menu and surveyed the choices lined up on either page, grumbling at the selection of foreign dishes.

Her eyes moved over the menu, a smile creeping to her lips as she read the descriptions silently. "I asked her about school," she said, pausing to finish reading a menu option. "I have to go. She said the sheriff here was a real ... uh, well, a real hard-ass," she whispered with part of a blush, leaning over the table to say it, "and he won't put up with any truants."

He chuckled, catching himself before seeing if there was any shadow hinting above her lavender collar, even for job-related study. "You can't be truant if you haven't registered," he said. "But, yeah, we don't need the hassle of any authorities trying to check into our business here. Isane said they'd send someone soon."

She smiled more at the menu. "Ooh, potato planks."

"Get whatever you want," he told her, finding the potato listing on his own menu. His attention flicked back to her, this time observing the skin just above her collar for a longer moment. He'd neglected filling in that part of his report the night before, preoccupied with the accident and stubborn communicator.

There was no sign of blemish in her skin, and he looked back to his menu as her eyes rose to the top of the second page of her menu.

He was about to speak when a haggard waitress came up to the table and gave them a cheery smile. "Hi. Ready to order?"

Orihime nodded as Renji looked to her.

"Go ahead," he told her. "Anything you want."

She did. Renji placed his order, outnumbering hers by two items, and the waitress left with a promise of lemonade for each.

Orihime crossed her arms in front of her on the table, sighing. She hesitated in asking, but after a moment of debate, she took a deep breath and did so.

"What would Soul Society do to me if I couldn't stop the delayed Hollow modification, Renji?"

He raised an eyebrow at the query, recognizing the tentativeness in her voice. "Do you think Urahara's protocol isn't working?"

She shook her head slowly, pushing a stray strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "But if it doesn't work ... what then? Is there any other way to stop it?" Her voice lowered. "Soul Society gets rid of Hollows."

He'd actually thought about that. He hadn't come to a conclusion of what he would do, under certain circumstances, but he knew for certain what he _wouldn't_ do. "I don't know the technical side of all this shit, Orihime," he admitted, watching her gaze drop to the delft blue and cream checked tablecloth. "But the precautions are in place. You're far away from anyone with spiritual abilities and your own powers aren't being used. There's nothing to interfere with Urahara's reversal."

She nodded, eyes on his finger tracing a square of blue on the table.

"Is there anything happening you should tell me?"

Her eyes shot to his.

She shook her head.

"Because you can tell me," he said, leaning over the table slightly, moving his foot when his shoe kicked her sandal. "Sorry. Anyway, the report only asks for some stuff; you can tell me anything off the record, too."

For a few seconds she looked like she was going to say something, but then the waitress came back to their table and set two tall glasses of lemonade in front of each of them.

"Be right up with your orders, folks," she said and then disappeared back to the counter.

Orihime readily unwrapped her straw and stuck it in the dink and took a long slurp, followed by a sharp expression. "Oh, this is tangy, Renji." She took another smaller sip. "I think it's made with real lemons."

He took a drink of the beverage as she tied a knot in the straw's paper wrapper. She was right; it was tart.

He sat back and moved his feet, letting one rest to the side of her sandal. "What happened with Ishida?" He glanced to the green segmented bracelet. "Last I seen you two looked mighty close."

She nodded slowly, sighing. "He's trying to make amends with his father. They're the last two Quincies left, Renji, and he doesn't want to lose that."

He frowned, watching her take another sip of the lemonade. "What's that got to do with you?"

"Oh, nothing," she said hurriedly, smiling a bit. "He wants to study his heritage, to find out what Ishida-san has given up. To put his priorities in order."

He didn't see how that would affect a relationship with Orihime, but he didn't push the topic. If that was what Uryuu had told her and she accepted it, then that was fine with him. _Stupid for Ishida_, he thought, but fine with him.

"You're okay with that?" He watched her over the edge of his glass as he took a drink of lemonade, wishing he'd ordered something stronger.

She nodded immediately.

"And Kurosaki and Rukia?"

This time her nod was slower, but still a definite nod.

He shook his head. "It's okay to throw a fit about it, Orihime," he said, nudging her ankle with his. "No one's here to see it. No one you know, anyway."

She giggled a little, and then rested her forearms on the table and sighed, looking to him steadily. "I thought all that through. I had a lot of time to think and worry in Las Noches, and I kept running around in circles in my head," she said, her voice growing timid as she looked to the napkin holder with its cream colored napkins. "I kept thinking Ichigo would come and save me, because he always did. And then I thought, yes, he always did. He was always there whenever I had trouble in my life, and he always showed up at just the right time with the right thing to say."

Renji had his doubts about that, but he didn't voice them. She looked back to him.

"It was that way when my brother died. It was the worst moment in my life, Renji, because Sora took me away from home and was always there when I needed anything. And when he was gone, before I could say I was sorry for ... for some things, he was just gone..." Her voice faded and she looked to the lemonade before her. She frowned at it, which dissolved into another, softer expression.

"Ichigo was there when Sora died, and he told me that it wasn't my fault, and that my brother would always know I loved him," she continued in a lower tone. "And then he was there every time trouble or danger came around. Protective, like Sora, and kind, and didn't ask for anything." She looked to him sharply, this time more of an edge in her voice. "Sometimes people are nice but then they want something else from you. Ichigo wasn't like that. He was always there in the right spot when I needed him."

Renji shrugged one shoulder, rattling the ice cubes in his glass. "Yeah, he's got a knack for being in the right place at the right time," he agreed, looking to her as she nodded.

"But that's not love," she said, disappointment touching her words. "Not really. It's silly to pretend it is."

He frowned, for some reason her conclusion making his hackles raise. "Did he tell you that, Orihime?" He set the glass down on the table. "'Cause that's pretty damn rude."

"Oh, no," she said smiling fully. "It was silly for me to lean on him after Sora died, and then to be ... so enamored with him." She blushed quickly as she admitted it. "I never told anyone that." She put a hand to her collar, pressing on an unseen flicker beneath her shirt. "I think Urahara-san's treatment makes me say things I shouldn't."

He grinned, chuckling as the waitress brought a tray of food to their table, the inviting smells of the dishes adding to their appetites. They waited for the woman to unload the plates and took a moment to add their choices of condiments to the cheeseburgers, French fries and hash brown patties, coleslaw, and onion rings. He watched the seemingly never-ending addition of ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise and specially requested grape jelly Orihime heaped onto her burger.

She smiled at the heavily slathered burger and looked to him. "Are you really all right with Rukia and Ichigo, Renji?"

He nodded and took a big bite from the burger. "Yup."

She licked her lips, partly in anticipation of her lunch and partly to give herself a moment to reconsider second guessing a vice captain in Soul Society about his feelings. "Are you sure?"

Renji looked to her, chewing the large bite, nodding as he swallowed. "I'm sure, Orihime."

She nodded in return, and then picked up her burger.

* * *

Szayel was getting weary of discovering the drawbacks of the Living. Although he'd chosen the best specimen of the few he had access to, Morgan, whom he now possessed, required a lot of maintenance, primarily in the form of nourishment.

He'd found town and past it, following the twisting roads out of sight along the steep shoulder.

His new host body was less than ideal, but in better shape than Nyles' had been. But the man liked to argue.

"Shut up, you feeble-minded twit," he threatened the small voice of Morgan still nagging him. "You just tell me when we see something we can consume for sustenance."

Szayel had found the traces of Orihime Inoue in the air, brief fragments of her unique spiritual powers, somehow now subdued. It was a faint trail, and it led out of town. He dearly hoped he came across a source of nourishment before his sluggish host of Morgan's body passed out.

He cut through a thick woods of underbrush where the mountains afforded a break between the steeper grade to his right. In the distance he could see small white dwellings in the growing evening dusk. Closer, sounds unfamiliar to the once-Espada reached his ears, Morgan's ears, and his human host identified them as chickens and goats.

Szayel didn't care what form of animals they were unless they could provide ready nourishment, which Morgan insisted they would not.

"_But that_," Morgan hinted to him as they came up on a residence a moment later when the woods and brush thinned, "_that we can eat from_."

Szayel paused at the outskirts of the yard perimeter. It was a modest house surrounded by outbuildings that had outgrown their use. A large barn in disrepair was behind the house and two newer ones in better shape further on, with assorted fences running around most of the place.

The yard was huge, shaded by a few mature trees, and a large garden took up a good portion of it. Large tomato bushes and eggplants and peppers lined up over the patch beside a patch of sweet corn. The tall corn offered a handy hiding place, and the bean plants nearest Szayel's side of the garden were heavy with green beans.

A goat bleat sounded from across the dark yard as Samson watched them warily from his penned side of one of the better barns.

Szayel smiled at the yard. The last rays of sunlight were fading, and only a few windows in the house were illuminated with lamplight.

He was about to step from the tree line when a tall lanky figure wearing a baseball cap headed from the house down a well-worn path that led back to the small dwellings in the far distance.

Szayel watched Reese disappear down the bramble strewn path until he was out of sight over the slope edge, and then helped himself to what the garden had to offer.

* * *

Renji was pleased with the truck. He and Orihime had spent a full two hours being pleased with the new truck – new to them – as they tested out its durability along the more adventurous routes back to the house they rented off of Mayes. They'd cut through the back roads, which were only slightly more hilly than the main roads, skirting the mountain, spotting the Pal'O'Mine Stables that Orihime realized was mostly likely where Sylvi lived.

Renji didn't try to impress her with pavement hanging curves at too high of speed; they'd both already had enough fun with that concept.

Instead he put the truck through a modest course along the winding roads, tempted to test the pick-up's ability on the sloping soybean fields that angled up a mountainside.

But he didn't. Orihime was already gripping the door panel rest and spare seat belt between them and he decided against giving her another fright.

Upstairs at their house that evening – he wasn't quite yet ready to call it their _home_ – he knocked on her closed door at her end bedroom. "I'm going out to check around," he called through the door, hearing her turn down the softly playing radio she had on some pop station.

She opened the door as he was about to speak again, her eyes going to his right hand on the doorframe, seeing the ring. "Okay. Not for long?"

He saw the flicker of apprehension pass through her eyes. "Just for a minute. Not for long, Orihime. I haven't tried out Captain Kurotsuchi's work yet."

She nodded. "Okay."

"I'll lock up behind me."

She nodded again and went back into the room where she'd been sorting her clothes from the clean laundry basket.

He glanced at the light curtains moving in the growing evening breeze at her window.

"It's not open much," she said, catching his attention on the window.

He nodded. "Back in a few minutes."

Renji waited until he was out the back door, which he locked, and past the small plot of overgrown garden and small tool shed to slip the ring from his right hand to his left. Instantly he was back in his shinigami robes, the surge of his old powers coursing back into him. He grinned at the welcome change, relieved that the Research Department had gotten it right, again.

He patted Zabimaru's hilt at his side, and then alighted to the top of the house, and then went on to make a quick pass over the immediate premises. He didn't go far, certainly not over a half mile, and again felt the trace of something in the atmosphere.

He paused over the back of their property line that was marked by a line of birch trees running the gully to the next residence. In the distance blocky black shapes could be seen, a few lights on inside a small house set closer to the road farther back. It would be Sylvi's house, he knew. He didn't go there, instead heading back to the house where Orihime's bedroom light shone mutedly through the pulled curtains.

The twinge of something in the atmosphere was heavier and Renji wondered at its nature. It could very well be a cemetery; after all, they'd passed two on the way home.

Plus Widow Mayes was edging onto the graveside of life. He didn't know how old she was, but he knew it was near ancient.

He hovered at the trees edging their property. Orihime's window was a square of dull orange light in the dark, the music from her radio barely discernible at his distance.

So she'd given up Kurosaki as a schoolgirl's refuge during her brother's death.

And Ishida had given her up in pursuit of his heritage.

Renji thought they were both missing out, Ishida and Kurosaki.

He hadn't expected her to come to a conclusion like that over Ichigo Kurosaki. Then again, maybe she'd had a lot of time to think during her imprisonment in Hueco Mundo.

She was right about some of it, he decided. Kurosaki did have a tendency to be in the right spot at the right time for some people, at some points of danger.

He ignored the wave of guilt that sucked at him. He was the one who was supposed to be in all those right spots for Rukia, like a good brother would be, and he had instead decided to follow his Captain's orders. He'd regretted it since, and every order since, Renji had rethought before following. He'd never make that mistake again.

But Captain Kuchiki was a methodical man, and there hadn't been any orders that Renji had denied.

He forced down those thoughts and turned back to Orihime Inoue's surprising analysis. He settled above the trees where he'd blend in, he hoped, in case she looked out the window.

He'd thought a lot about Hueco Mundo, too, and about her capture, and before anyone knew it was a capture at all and not her willingness to join Aizen Sousuke. There'd been a few times he had wondered how things would have been different if he'd been allowed to carry through when he'd volunteered to bring her back.

The thought put a grin on his face, as it usually did. Kurosaki had been stunned that he would offer.

In the light of the closed curtains he could see Orihime's silhouette as she changed out of her clothes and into her nightwear and robe. He let his conscience prick away at him, knowing he wasn't seeing _anything_, yet familiar enough with her to know the shapely silhouette cast on the curtains was very accurate in its curves.

"Damn pervert," he muttered to himself.

The light switched off and a moment later the bathroom light came on, this time a duller tone under the heavier curtains in that room.

Renji gave himself a sharp reprimand and alighted to the ground at the garden shed, and then switched the ring to his right hand, putting him back in his gigai.

He made his way back across the dark yard, digging the back door key out of his jeans pocket.

Maybe he should have denied Yamamoto and brought Orihime back from Hueco Mundo on his own anyway.

* * *

**Author's Note:**_ Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	9. Replacement Parts

Orihime awoke to an intense itching in her chest two days later. It got her out of a deep sleep, one that had kept her sleeping past the roosters crowing and assorted birds chirping in the trees outside her window.

She flung off the bedclothes and grabbed her chest, fingers tightening on her camisole before she realized what the odd sensation was.

Or maybe, she hoped, what it wasn't. Maybe it wasn't a problem, but actually Urahara's methods against Hollowfication at work.

She rubbed the irritated spot above her camisole collar and then smoothed it carefully. Her heart beat fiercely below her hand, mostly out of fear of what may lay beneath than the shock of awaking to the sensation.

"Stop it," she told herself, swinging her legs over the bed and taking a deep breath. "It's just a little itch. That's all."

She found a yellow tank top and pulled it on, and then whisked up the pair of jean shorts she'd set out the night before. Outside the sun was trying to peek through the curtains still pulled. She ran a hand through her hair and went to the window, moving it aside.

In the back yard she saw Renji at the patch of garden they'd begun to call the wonder garden, mostly because they wondered what was in it, if anything. The yard was wet with a fresh rainfall from the night before, the grass still holding the water in low spots. Beyond him at the yard boundary she saw a stand of sunflowers among the weeds. Their faces were turned to the sun at the front of the house, black rounds with mild yellow petals framing.

She smiled, looking back to Renji as he walked around the garden plot, a hoe in one hand. A few feet away a push-mower was silent. She leaned against the window frame, watching him bend over one corner of the garden, moving the thick of weeds back with the hoe. From her angle she could barely see the black marks tattooed at the nape of his neck, dissolving beneath the collar of his gray t-shirt. She knew they were from accomplishment, marks he had awarded himself for achieving something personal to him. She wondered how many had to do with his captain, and how many with Rukia.

She debated for a moment if Renji wanted to best Captain Kuchiki because he was his captain or because Byakuya was Rukia's brother.

She also wondered why it mattered so much to him. Being a lieutenant in Soul Society was no easy feat. She watched him stand up and push the weeds back with the hoe, uncovering a layer of dark, damp ground beneath the overgrowth of gnarled brush. For a moment his arm paused at the movement, his attention on the ground.

Orihime tilted her head, eyes moving over his extended arm, his broad shoulders, to his back. She'd rarely seen Renji fight, but she knew Zabimaru was a complex weapon to master, taking not only countless hours and decades but skill and strength to command.

A leap pulsed in her heartbeat, surprising her. She blinked, putting a hand to her neck at the slight blush starting to warm the skin there.

It surprised her, as she reasoned the quickening, which led to more of a flush that reached her cheeks. Friend or brother or unrequited lover, Rukia was lucky to have Renji in her life, she decided, sighing as she fringed at the curtain. She tried to decide which he was, or more importantly, which he was _now_.

A sudden knock at the front door of the house jolted Orihime's thoughts of tattoos and pulse rates, bringing a muted startle from her.

By the time she reached the main floor, Renji was at the front door, letting Reese in.

The handyman tipped his baseball cap at her, grinning as she fixed her hair into a long ponytail. "'Morning," he said, then nodded to Renji. "Widow said to get that washer fixed for you. Now okay?"

Renji nodded, wiping his hands on his shirt as he gave Orihime a quick glance before looking back to Reese. "You know where it is?"

"Yup," Reese said, lifting a small, worn toolbox that had more dents than straight sides.

Orihime followed Renji and Reese to the basement through the kitchen. It was an old house, and the basement was predated most Renji had seen. They descended the wooden stairs, the dark eclipsing them with creaks of each step until Reese switched a lever at the bottom of the stairs. The basement lit by a single bulb hanging bare over the worn washing machine and dryer set, ductwork and pipes lacing the cement wall behind it.

Reese nodded, leading the way with a faint trail of used smoke. "Dig out that garden spot yet?"

Renji looked from Orihime to the handyman. "Not quite. Anything in it?"

Reese set his toolbox on the floor by the washing machine and moved the appliance out from the wall a few inches. "Last I seen, not much. Widow said to come on over if you want any vegetables or eggs. Or raspberries. Trail's full of 'em."

"Ooh, raspberries," Orihime murmured, smiling at the thought. She looked to Renji as he glanced at her. "Do you like raspberries?"

He nodded, eyes dropping to her collar. "You feeling okay?" he asked in Japanese.

She nodded immediately, answering in the same. "I slept too long."

They both looked back to where Reese had opened the washing machine lid and was hunkered over it. "Seen the newspapers?"

His voice was muffled and echoed inside the machine's tumbler as he looked around at the interior.

Renji frowned. "No." He glanced to Orihime as she bit her lower lip. "Go up and get some breakfast. We'll look into finding the school later."

"Oh, uh ..." she was about to finish her answer when Reese turned to them, holding up a small wad of material.

He grinned, looking from her to Renji. "That's your problem."

Renji grumbled as the handyman unrolled a tiny infant's sock that had long since dried. "A baby sock?"

Reese nodded, picking apart the item. "Some things like this get wedged up and inhibit the transmission from getting to full spin. Won't empty." He looked to Orihime expectantly, wiggling the sock. "Not yours?"

"Oh, oh ... no," she said, blushing deeply, looking almost guiltily to Renji. "Not mine. I don't ... we... no."

Reese had already turned back to the machine as she blushed as crimson as Renji's hair. He felt around inside under the rim of the appliance and pulled out another somewhat larger wad of clothing, this one bright purple and still damp from a recent washing. He shook it open, eyes darting to Renji as the shinigami took a quick step and snatched the wad of purple panties from him.

"I'm, I'm ... going up," Orihime mumbled, quickly skipping up the stairs as Renji gripped the purple material tightly.

He glanced to her and then to Reese, resisting the impulse to get a better look at the balled purple in his hand. "Anything else in there?"

Reese was already waist deep in the machine. "Sorry 'bout that."

Renji gave him a sharp look, which was mostly ignored as the handyman looked beneath the lid of the machine for more items of interest. "Anything else?"

Reese searched for a moment. "Think that's it."

Upstairs they could hear Orihime's footsteps cross the floor overheard. Renji clutched the purple until it disappeared in his fist. "What about the newspaper?"

"They found one of the escapees. Nyles, or so they thought," Reese said, standing upright from investigating the appliance. "Let him go coupla days ago."

Renji nodded, mind drifting. "Hisagi."

Reese raised an eyebrow. "You know him?"

Caught in a truth, Renji shrugged. "Yeah. From work."

"Oh."

Renji chanced to look down for a better glimpse of the purple in his hand as Reese crouched behind the washing machine to check the inlet hoses. "What was a baby sock doing stuck in there?"

"Hmm? Oh, well, Widow Mayes rented out to a couple a few summers ago, so guess it's from them. Little things like that float up when the water rises and get stuck when the machine spins."

Renji turned the panties over, seeing a few pink hearts lining the waistband, and then crumbled them into a ball again as Reese stood up.

He didn't look at the purple Renji hid. "Butler and McDarrow were both seen in Grundy yesterday," he said, voice lowering as he sent a cautious glimpse to the staircase. "Town's getting kinda nervy with the school year starting up and the convicts still loose. Didn't want to scare your girl, but ya'll being new, just letting you know."

Renji's estimations of the handyman raised half a notch. "Yeah, thanks."

Reese closed the machine lid. "Most people out here set store by a twelve gauge, but anything you got would be better than nothing."

It took a moment for Renji to equate the reference to a firearm, but he nodded. "We're prepared."

Reese grabbed his toolbox. "Good."

* * *

After Orihime's late breakfast, she and Renji headed out to find the high school. She'd argued with herself over saying anything to him of the itching sensation that had woke her up that morning, deciding it better to wait until he asked, as she knew he'd have to when he filled out the reports Fourth Division insisted upon.

But she still hesitated as he opened the truck door that morning, her fingers pausing on the collar of her shirt.

Renji's attention was on the passenger side seat in the truck. "Dammit," he muttered, seeing the darker area of bench cushion. He quickly cranked up the window that had been left down a few inches overnight. "I forgot it rained. Sorry."

"Oh, it's okay," she said, putting one hand on the truck's cab top as she prepared to boost herself in. "It's just a little wet, Renji."

"It's soaked. Shove over," he said as she prepared to sit half on the damp seat.

"Okay." She settled into the center of the seat and waited as he slammed the door.

He rounded the truck and got behind the steering wheel, watching her buckle the middle seatbelt as he started the truck. "Hopefully Fourth Division will send over your paperwork for school and you can start on time."

She nodded. "I hope so. I don't want to fall behind."

He put one arm across the seat top behind her and turned to back the truck out of the curving driveway. "Think you feel up to going?"

She nodded, her ponytail rubbing across his arm as the truck backed out onto the road behind them. The pavement stretched hot ahead of them as the truck turned down the road twisting between the mountain and slope of hill to their right as they headed for town. After consulting the phone directory briefly over an even briefer breakfast, they knew Chesney High School was a matter of turns and bends away, most of it swooping lower into the crook of mountains behind their temporary housing.

"Here," Orihime said as they came to a stop sign just before town. "That's the name of the road the school was listed on."

Renji followed the arm and finger crossing his chest to the road branching out from town, which, if were straighter, would have run parallel to their rental house. He turned the truck, glancing back to Orihime as she lowered her arm. His eyes trailed the faint bruises marking her arm near her elbow. They matched the few spots of blue on her knees and one side of her left thigh, something that interrupted the otherwise smoothness of her leg nearest him.

He stifled a growl as the truck continued on down the new road. "You've still got some bumps," he said, catching her quick look to him. "I've got to fill out a more thorough report tonight; otherwise Fourth might think I'm hiding something from them. I'm sure Captain Kurotsuchi's getting a copy of everything, too."

She frowned over the road ahead of them as the thinning residences started to bunch up as a collection of larger building came up on their right. "I kind of felt odd this morning, Renji," she said slowly, sinking back in the seat more, sighing carefully. "Just a little. Just ... well, I thought it was because I started the second set of vials from Urahara-san."

He nodded, looking across her out the passenger window as a large red and white sign read "Chesney High School" from the lawn of a modest brick building. He glanced to her as she looked to the building set farther back from the road on a relatively flat piece of land. He couldn't help but wonder what, if anything, was going on beneath the innocent appearing yellow tank top with the purple ribbon threaded at the collar. He saw nothing amiss, the collar high enough for modesty, as he knew she usually wore her clothes, but there was no denying she was far past most modest means for a girl her age.

His eyes flicked to the school as he turned the truck into the wide double-lane drive and Orihime looked to him.

"What do you mean by odd?" he asked, taking his arm from the seat behind her to maneuver the truck to the row of parking spaces at the side of the school's front doors.

"Just a little tingle." Orihime resisted putting her hand to her chest, clasping them on her lap as Renji nodded. "That's all."

He shifted the truck into park and opted for brute honesty as he rested his arm behind her again and turned to her. "Okay. How much tingle and how much _odd_?" He glanced to the scoop of ribbon at her collar as her fingers edged there. Mentally damning Fourth Division without naming names for putting him in the position he found himself – and Orihime – he took her nervous fingers from her collar, feeling slight resistance as he pulled them from the tank top.

She caught her breath at the movement, fingers curling over his hand as he lowered it from her shirt. "Just a little of both," she said slowly, the pink gathering in her cheeks in force as he studied her chest.

"You look fine to me," he said, gripping her hand tighter at the nervousness coursing through the slender fingers. He grinned a little, hoping to set her at more ease than he felt. "I can't tell you how many times Fourth Division has put me in awkward spots."

A timid smile fought through the blush on her face. "Fourth Division?"

He nodded, picking a strand of hair from her ponytail, feeling its softness between his fingers, mostly to distract him from his observation. "I came to after my fight with Kurosaki to have an attendant from Fourth tell me my tattoos were uneven."

She looked to each of his eyes, then giggled. "Really?"

He nodded, grinning more. "On my ribs. Said they weren't evenly spaced. And another time Isane said one mark on my back was longer than the other side. I was ready to go get it fixed, to match, when Kiyone told me they'd measured wrong. Damn, I'm unconscious from injuries and they're taking the opportunity to _measure_."

A louder giggle broke from her and she tried to cover most of it with her free hand.

He grinned as the fingers to her other hand relaxed in his. "Fourth is where you go – or get taken to – for medical attention, and then you find out they're just as curious as any other division," he said, estimating her smile when she lowered her hand. "I'm just saying people in that field kind of have one up on you when you're at your most vulnerable. And," he added, tugging slightly on her ponytail, "sometimes they recruit others, too, so don't let it bother you, if I have stupid questions."

She leaned back in the seat, her smile less bashful as her fingers tightened in his. "Thanks, Renji," she said with a sigh, finding her attention drifting to what she could see of the tattoos above his black headband. "It helps."

He nodded and placed her hand on her leg, his thumb rubbing over the back of hers for a moment. He cleared his throat and sat back, glancing to the football field behind the school as male voices came from that direction.

Orihime looked past him, seeing no one, just the track that circled the football field, stands of bleachers on either side of it, a long garage, fence and a few buses blocking most of the field.

"Well, we've found the school," he said, looking back to the brick building that was quiet, locked up tight in its last few days before the onslaught of another school year. "We can't get you registered yet."

She nodded, eyes on the one story building before them. "Do you think the paperwork will come in time from Fourth Division?"

He nodded, giving the track and field a brief glimpse before taking his arm from the back of the seat and sifting into gear. "I think so. I'll try to call again later today."

He pulled out of the parking space and let the truck troll around the school's small lot, neither he nor Orihime able to see much of the athletic facilities due to the bus garage and netted fencing obscuring most of the view.

The dry heat of the day was magnified from the black, pocked pavement as the truck made its way back to the entrance that also served as the only exit. At the road they paused, Renji checking for traffic.

Orihime's fingers smoothed the edges of her cuffed jean shorts as the truck turned back onto the road toward town, a few thoughts tossing through her mind. She was still volleying through curiosity when Renji's arm came back across the seat behind her. She glanced to him, watching his eyes alert on the winding road before them. Her gaze dropped to the few black tattoos angled at his neck just below his hairline.

He glanced to her as her neck rested at his arm, her body settling slightly against his side, conforming more than necessary to avoid the wet part of the bench seat.

"Were any of your tattoos uneven?" she asked timidly, attention shooting to the road when he looked to her.

He chuckled. "Not that I know of."

She nodded, ponytail bouncing a few strands of auburn hair across his arm. "Oh."

* * *

Szayel watched Reese's lanky form weave its way through the raspberry bush-strewn pathway leading from Widow Mayes' place back to the collection of small efficiency dwellings set back across the small valley to the next shorter mountainside. Finding the handyman's humble housing was simple; Reese had left it to cross the bramble path to Mayes' early that morning, calling hellos to chickens and Samson as he went, unaware of Szayel, still possessing Morgan's injured body, watching from the half-dilapidated barn.

Now in the brighter, ever-growing warmth of the day, Szayel had not only found the handyman's small house, but took his time investigating it while Reese had been in the basement with Renji and Orihime, fixing the washing machine. The efficiency was one of a few, most belonging to other odd-job workers gone for the day, and was small, consisting of only a kitchen and living area, bed against one wall, and tiny bathroom. It was mostly bare, somewhat clean, smelled heavily of smoke, and offered a good view of the back of Mayes' place.

Szayel had eaten from the Widow's garden under Morgan's direction, and now he was ready to move on with more of his plan. The small table and one chair in Reese's kitchen area had provided a helpful avenue, one Szayel intended to use. The newspaper on the table held a picture of Shuuhei Hisagi, as well as mug shots of Morgan, Butler, Nyles, and McDarrow.

It took Szayel a moment to recognize Morgan despite the inner hinting his host shouted at him. Szayel did, however, recognize the photo of Shuuhei Hisagi.

"He bears the markings of Kaname Tousen's shinigami vice-captain," Szayel had said when he first saw the photo in the newspaper after making himself at home in the Reese's small abode. The researcher in him was stronger than his Espada tendencies, and Szayel quickly calculated the photo of Hisagi against what he knew, as he did with every bit of knowledge crossing his path, and after having Morgan read the article to him, Szayel nodded in satisfaction.

"I can use this," he said, nodding at Hisagi's photo, and then looking to the one of the escapee Nyles. "Even with the rudimentary facilities available now, yes, I think this may be of assistance."

"_What the hell are you_ –" Morgan had begun.

But Szayel cut him off without allowing the inmate to finish the thought. "Shut up. I have an errand for you. My research material is very close and I need to set up observation." He looked around the small few rooms. "This may do for our purpose, but I have a few necessities."

When Reese opened the door to his small house nestled among the other small efficiency houses, he was greeted by what appeared to him to be one of the escaped convicts still at large. No sooner had he opened the door than Morgan pinned him to the wall, one large hand at the thinner man's throat, the strength of Morgan increased by the determination of Szayel now controlling him.

Reese's eyes bulged, unable to speak as he sputtered under the hand clenched at his throat.

"You seem to know the territory here," Szayel said in Morgan's booming voice, grinning at the handyman. "I have need of your facility."

Reese's hands went to the arm pinning him against the drab white wall, clawing at the hand locked around his neck.

Szayel pushed harder on the man's neck, frowning at the smell of smoke pervading him. "Have you seen a human living girl around here with a hole in her chest?"

The fright at seeing Morgan in his house was substituted for confusion at the question. Reese shook his head as much as he could. "Human?" he stuttered. "Living?"

Szayel realized his mistake. He nodded to the newspaper on the table. "Shuuhei Hisagi. Have you seen him?"

Reese shook his head, his face starting to turn purple, his fingers still trying to pry the hand from his throat.

"He matches the description of a subordinate I heard described by a colleague," Szayel said, thinking back on what he'd heard from Tousen in Las Noches. "Not really a colleague," he clarified, what to him was a point of distinction, "but we were both under Aizen-sama's orders, so ..." He frowned as Reese's neck began to sag under his hand, Morgan's hand actually, from lack of air. He let the handyman drop as he passed out from lack of oxygen.

Szayel scowled at him. The Living were frail, but proving necessary to his research. He glanced back at the table, eyes on the mug shot of Morgan. He looked to Reese's still form at his feet. "I'm sending you on an errand," he told Morgan. "You haven't the qualities I'm looking for in a host, but I think I can use you. I'm sending you to retrieve Nyles for me."

For a moment Morgan struggled to take control of his body, but Szayel held him at bay.

"You're to bring him here, where I can work in quiet, and in return I may leave you alive when I'm finished with you." There was a bit of grumbling from within, but Szayel squashed any rebellion Morgan attempted. "With this one," he said, glancing to Reese's unconscious body, "I can move about without suspicion. If that one is the Soul Reaper I believe it to be," he added, looking to the newspaper photo of Hisagi, "then she is definitely still near. I'll deal with Abarai if necessary, but first I'd like to assemble my resources."

"_I don't know what the hell you're talking about, you_ –" Morgan began.

"You don't have to _know_," Szayel told him, stepping away from Reese. He went to the kitchen area and sorted through the drawers for a moment. "Since you lack some of the loyalties necessary for an obedient fraccíon, I'll put something else at stake for you."

With a smile belonging to Szayel on Morgan's face, Szayel withdrew from the drawer a large knife with a chipped blade. "You go back to the region I left this Nyles' body and bring it back here." He set Morgan's arm on the counter, examining the forearm of his host.

Morgan panicked at the arm before him under Szayel's control. "_What are you doing?"_

"Quiet." Szayel pushed on the forearm with a finger of his other hand, the knife angled away as he found the best place to sever the arm at the elbow.

"_What the hell are you doing?"_

Szayel fought back Morgan's feeble attempt to commandeer his arm. "You bring back Nyles' body by this evening and I'll reattach your arm."

Inside Morgan's mind the inmate screamed at the Espada as Szayel held the large blade of the knife to the skin below the elbow and cut deeply into it.

The blade soon buried beneath skin and blood, disappearing into the thick muscle of Morgan's arm as the convict screamed against Szayel.

Szayel ignored him, cutting first through the flesh and muscle around the arm and then taking a moment to hack through the bone. He ignored the pain, berating Morgan for fussing. When the forearm lay on the counter in a bloody mess and Morgan's body was left with a stump for a left arm, Szayel departed the human host.

Morgan grabbed his hacked arm with his right hand, a cry escaping him that was cut short as an unseen hand clapped over his mouth.

Unseen to Morgan, Szayel stuck two fingers inside his own hip and retrieved a thin film from one of his few pockets of skin he liked to carry. He held it to Morgan's bloody stump. After a moment the film effectively stopped the bleeding, but did nothing to lessen the pain.

"Now listen to me," Szayel said, crawling a few thoughts into Morgan's mind so he could be heard. "Do you hear me?"

Morgan nodded, still unable to see the pink-haired Espada, but certainly aware of him.

"You go get Nyles and bring him here and I'll reattach your arm."

Morgan's eyes wandered wildly around the room for the source of the voice and invisible hand at his mouth, but he nodded.

"Good," Szayel said, easing his hand away. "Hurry."

Morgan took a step away, glancing to his stump of an arm that no longer bled, but skyrocketed in pain. For a moment he stood dazed, hard eyes on his arm on the counter. His heartbeat was painful in his chest, a mixture of fear and astonishment at the voice in his mind.

On the floor he saw Reese sit up, an odd struggle as Szayel possessed the handyman as host.

"What the hell has this thing been eating?" Szayel said as he took over Reese, sitting back against the wall. He wiped his mouth, spitting on the floor beside him, glaring at the brown saliva.

"Hey," Morgan said, unsure of the handyman.

Szayel pushed Reese's baseball cap back from his face – Reese's face – disliking his new host as much as his last.

"Get going," Szayel said, Reese's voice sounding tinny to him. "You have until dark."

Morgan glowered at him. "You're in there."

Szayel nodded, swallowing carefully from where he'd throttled Reese. "Get going, fraccíon."

Morgan gave him a wide berth and ran out the door.

Szayel stood up. He figured he had a few more minutes before his host came to and tried to reclaim his body. His attention turned internal as he ran through Reese's most recent memories.

Orihime Inoue's image popped into his mental view.

Szayel smiled, creasing Reese's face into a tight grin. "Well, here we go." He held the image in memory for a moment, dismayed that the girl was whole.

He nodded. "We'll see."

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Thanks for reading and for reviewing!_


	10. Proof

Orihime didn't easily let go of the moment Reese had held up her personal clothing, nor Renji snatching them away. Try as she may, the blush stayed with her the next two days, surfacing when she needed it least.

She hadn't the boldness to inquire of Renji what he'd done with the panties, but she found out when she next did laundry – a slightly mixed load of t-shirts and tank tops – two afternoons later when he'd went out to curse at the long grass in the backyard.

There they were, in the washing machine, staring back at her from the center agitator top. Not folded, she realized, and glad they weren't, but not tucked away where she wouldn't find them, either. With a cautious glance to the basement staircase, she scooted the underclothing into the washer and piled the shirts on top of them, then started the water for a wash cycle.

"I could have said they were Lieutenant Kotetsu's," she murmured to the filling machine as she measured out the detergent and poured it in. From above the bleat of a goat made her look to the wide window that faced the garden spot in the yard. "Samson. Silly creature."

She heard Renji yell something at the goat and then saw the animal trot past the basement window toward the front of the house.

She finished starting the load of laundry and went out to the backyard where Renji had forsaken the mower he'd tried to get into working condition that morning. He now opted for garden implements.

He gave her a sharp look as she emerged from the back door, eyes flicking over her denim shorts and lime tank top. "You sure you want to spend another day digging this out?" He pushed his headband back an inch, tempted to quit the task at hand and find out if Chesney was anywhere near a beach. But one look at the hesitant fingers Orihime had at her scoop collar as she smiled at the emerging vegetable plants drove thoughts of swimming from the possibilities.

She nodded, fixing her ponytail into a higher dangle along her back. "You don't have to help if you don't want to, Renji," she said, looking around for her small spade she'd used to wrestle the tomato cages into position. She grabbed it and knelt at a cage that was leaning under the weight of a loaded tomato plant. "I can do this."

"I don't mind." He watched her carefully shore up the metal cage. "Mower doesn't run, so we might as well finish this."

She smiled and finished uprighting the cage. Digging out the garden proved fruitful. It had taken them two days to find the exact perimeter of the small garden, but when they did, they also found a clump of raspberry bushes among the thorny brambles. Samson had helped.

Twice Renji had driven the goat out of the small backyard of the house in the early morning, usually when he was trying to contact Soul Society. It was a sporadic effort with the damaged communicator, but mornings seemed best.

Orihime tugged at a tangled root that protruded from a walkway in the garden, her mind drifting to the few pages of newspaper Renji had allowed to remain in the kitchen. "Did you see the newspaper?" She knew he had; he'd already taken the articles about the inmates still at large. "Yesterday's edition."

He had just sunk the hoe into a tough bramble base that was strangling a raspberry bush. "Yeah, but nothing interesting." He frowned as she pulled the root from the ground with a grunt. "What did you see?"

She tossed the root out of the garden and nearly struck Samson as the goat trotted back up to them.

Renji gave the animal a growl. He half expected Mayes to be in pursuit, but the goat was alone, and began munching contentedly on briars and leafy berry branches alike near Orihime.

"Beat it," he said, taking a step toward the goat, who just looked back at him without care or fear. "Why aren't you on a leash?"

Orihime answered for the goat. "He's just helping us, Renji."

He decided to let the animal sample the thorns. "What did you see in the paper?"

"There's a big end of the summer picnic this weekend," she said, looking up as he paused working the bramble out of the ground. "Everyone in town is invited, and that would mean us, too. It's at the park at the edge of town. There's a bake sale for the schools, a pie auction and a potluck dinner and sports games."

Thoughts of soccer flashed through Renji's mind, as did thoughts of a potluck dinner. He frowned at her, eyeing the auburn hair that parted over her neck. "Everyone is invited?"

She nodded, brushing her hair from her face as it fell over her shoulder. She clipped the hairpin on the side higher. She smiled hopefully, seeking an outlet for entertainment in what was a very dull small town. "It might be fun."

He had to admit fun had been scarce lately. "Do you want to go?"

"Do you?" Her eyes went to the raspberries tucked in the bushy foliage. "I could make a raspberry and sweet bean paste pie for the auction, and the bake sale is taking donations."

Renji wasn't sure if Chesney Hollow was ready for Orihime's cooking, but he nodded. "We could go. Maybe see some of your classmates before the school year starts."

"Oh, yes." She stood and put her hands on her hips, estimating their work of the last few days. It had taken several mornings and a few afternoons, but the vegetable patch was taking shape. Gone were most of the weeds and scraggly plants that had no blooms. She smiled at the newly separated rows of overgrown tomato plants and summer squash. "I've never had a garden. I like it. It made vegetables through all that." She gestured to the heap of weeds and tall drying grass they'd pulled. "I think I'll plant an eggplant in a pot back home. But next summer."

He leaned the hoe on the grass, which was in dire need of mowing, and studied her. "I think it's easier to just buy the vegetables at the grocer."

She gave him a sideways glance, pleased when his grin widened. "But this is more fun."

"I can think of better ideas of fun." He shook his head and waved Samson away from nibbling on the healthiest raspberry bush. "Where's your widow?"

Orihime shooed the goat, flapping her arms until Samson got the hint and bleated before making a springy trot to the side of the house again.

Renji watched Orihime kneel to finger a few raspberries that were still slightly green. "Did you really mean all that about Ichigo and Rukia, Orihime?"

His tone was low, not the usual growl it held when he spoke of Ichigo, but sincere.

She nodded, pausing as she reached for a raspberry bush. "Do you really think of her as a little sister?" she asked, turning to see him better, surprised that she wanted to actually know; not just the standard answer he'd decided to give, but the truth.

He nodded.

She turned back to the raspberries, choosing the plumpest, mind sifting through her next question before deciding against it.

He pulled at his t-shirt, feeling the late morning's heat. "I think we're done here."

She nodded, pushing her auburn ponytail to one side of her shoulder as it fell again. "Have you heard anything about the paperwork for school yet?" She collected a few ripe berries, inspecting them. She stood and offered him a few of the reddest. "Do you like raspberries?"

He nodded, taking a few. "Isane said they're sending someone. Not sure who." He popped a berry in his mouth, finding is slightly tart, but sweet enough. "She said Fourth Division is backed up with casualties. Captain Kurotsuchi unleashed some kind of half-formed Arrancar experiments from one of Szayel's labs." He saw the alarm lease her face. "Nothing too serious, Orihime, but it's swamping Fourth with minor injuries and using up manpower."

"Oh. I'm glad it's not too serious." She pulled a thorny stem off a berry and ate it.

He watched her push a few berries around on her palm. "You know people around here assume we're living together," he said, watching her fingers pause around the berry.

She looked quickly to him, a bit of smile turning one corner of her mouth. "I know." She nodded slowly, watching his hand grip harder around hoe handle. "But people do that here."

The heat of the sun seemed to press insistently on Renji's back as he chose his words. "This was more of a rush assignment than last time. It was important to isolate you from, well, nearly everyone you usually hang around with." He shrugged, hoping the sun would quit burning a hole in his back. His agitation was matched by Orihime's blush.

"Is it okay with you?" she asked, watching his face intently, holding her breath as she hoped for a specific answer.

He nodded, grinning slowly. "Yup. You?"

She nodded, offering her open hand with a few more berries. "I don't mind."

A thumping of footfalls and low whinny suddenly came from the thicker part of the trees at the back of the yard. Both Orihime and Renji looked there to see a horse and rider appear from the birch trees.

Orihime immediately recognize the rider. "It's Sylvi," she said, wiping her hands on her shorts.

He nodded, glancing to the girl on the horse making its way across the long grass of the yard. He looked back to Orihime as she waved to the local girl.

"Hello!" Sylvi called as Sylvi dismounted and gathered the reins to pull the horse behind her. "Hi. Ooh, you found a garden." She gave Renji a nod. "Hi."

"Hi." He looked back to Orihime, and then they all looked to the side of the house as a grumble came from that area. He turned back to Orihime. "Back in a minute."

"Okay."

Renji left the girls in the backyard and rounded the house, sorely wishing he could carry the sword Isane had left. Twelve gauge or not, he was more comfortable with an edged weapon. The grumbling became louder as he got to the front of the house. At the bottom of the porch steps was Mayes.

She gave him a pointed look, in one hand a rope that was tethered to Samson, in the other a blue basket. She moved the basket from the goat as it tried to nose its way in. "Afternoon, fella."

Renji nodded. "Good afternoon."

"Have you seen Reese?"

"No. Is he supposed to be here?"

Mayes shook her head, lifting the pail higher as Samson lipped at the edge. "I haven't seen him since yesterday, which is unlike him. He usually comes for breakfast, if he's sober. Guess he's fallen off that wagon again."

Renji looked down the driveway, making a mental note about the handyman.

"Doesn't happen often," Mayes said, shaking out her worn apron as Samson pulled at the rope. She tugged back. "He's done good the last few years." She stood straighter, which didn't do much for her height. "You're cordially invited to the Chesney Hollow Sixty-Fourth Summer Picnic. I'm head of the Women's Auxiliary. Being new here, just wanted you to know." Her eyes wandered to the side of the house. "Does your young lady bake?"

He grinned, nodding. "Yeah, sometimes."

"Good. She can make a pie for the pie auction." She held the pail out to him. "Huckleberries. If she wants raspberries, come on over and get them. Good crop this year."

He took the pail, eyeing the blue berries inside. "Huckleberries?"

She nodded, turning down the path to the drive. "You see Reese, send him on over. He's got chores and brush to burn. I'm too old to mind everything. That's what I pay him for."

He shook the berries in the pail, hopes rising when he thought more about a pie. Behind him he heard his communicator give a warbled ring from an overhead window. It paused, and then warbled again.

"Bid high, Renji."

He looked to Mayes' slowly moving form. "Bid for what?"

"The pie auction. They auction off the pies and the highest bidder gets to eat the pie with the pie maker. Pretty girl you got there." She chuckled, giving him an amused smile. "Wouldn't want another fella eating pie with her, would you?"

"No." The word came out automatically, but Renji figured he meant it, on some level.

She turned back down the driveway.

"You need help with the chores?" he asked. "If Reese doesn't show up."

"Nope. Just making him feel guilty. Thank you anyway."

Mayes hobbled on down the drive as Renji inspected the berries. He felt a slight shift in spiritual pressure, a faint flicker that he barely detected due to Kurotsuchi's heavily insulated gigai. He glanced around, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, and for a few seconds wondered if the widow had collapsed. It was a weak pressure, definitely no one he knew.

From above he heard Orihime's voice drift out of an open second floor window. It was followed by Sylvi's, but the local girl's voice was still on the main floor, judging from the sound of it. Renji's gaze followed the tree line at the woods, searching for any disturbance. He absently picked out a few berries from the bucket as he headed around the side of the house when Mayes' hoarse tone squawked from the road.

"What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here. Get on back home."

Renji waited for an answering tone, but no one replied, so he figured she was yelling at Samson. By the time he got to the backyard the slight pressure was gone. He looked to the garden and then the small shed. No one was around, nothing amiss, except the dun horse that was eating grass by the shed. It raised its head and looked at him, and then returned to grazing.

"Eat it all," Renji called to it. He wished it would.

By the time he got to the back door, he was certain he'd imagined feeling anything. The muggy heat of the day was the only substance in the air. He went in and pulled the door shut behind him, spotting Sylvi in the kitchen.

She had her hands stuck in the pack pockets of her jean capris, waiting near the bottom of the staircase that met the living room.

"Is Orihime upstairs?" He set the bucket on the counter near the sink and popped the berries in his mouth. Two chews into the fruit he wanted to spit them out. The sour, tart flavor was only slightly offset by a berry flavor. He forced a swallow, grimacing.

Sylvi giggled at him. "Not good?"

He got a glass from the cupboard and ran himself some water from the faucet. "No. Do you like huckleberries?"

"They're not sweet. Kind of like a blueberry, but not sweet." She nodded. "Orihime's upstairs. It's okay if she comes over to ride, isn't it?"

Renji gulped down the glass of water, attention on the backyard where the horse was eagerly cropping long grass. "How far back do you live?"

"About a quarter mile or so." She looked to the staircase as Orihime descended. "There's a horse trail running straight back. We've got the gentlest horses in three counties. Mom trains them for handicapped children." She smiled as he looked to her. "You can come to. We've got plenty of horses. All real nice mounts."

He glanced to Orihime as she appeared at the bottom of the steps. She looked a little different, something slightly off, something –

He realized she was wearing a sport's bra, flattening out her usual volume. He also realized he was staring.

Orihime kept some of the blush from her cheeks at his notice. "Sylvi said we could go riding. She'll teach me." She nodded enthusiastically to convince him. "Can I?" She switched to Japanese and added, "Please, Renji? She said you can come, too."

He found himself nodding without thinking, instead focusing on the persuasive pout forming at her lips. "I'll follow in a bit," he said before returning to English, clearing his throat. "If you want to, sure. I'm waiting on a phone call," he excused, mostly for Sylvi's sake as he looked to her.

"Okay," Orihime said. "Oh, I heard your phone ring earlier."

He nodded. "I left it in my room. Damn thing's near broken. Barely makes a call."

Orihime perked up her ponytail as Sylvi sent a confused look to Renji, and then her.

"_His_ room?" she asked.

Orihime looked to Renji.

"But I thought ... I mean I thought ..." Sylvi said, frowning slowly at each of them. "You live together. Right? You mean –"

Renji shot a glance at her, acutely feeling the pink bloom on Orihime's cheeks. "My room. Our room. Sometimes the pronouns slip my mind."

Sylvi nodded. "Oh."

He shrugged, giving Orihime a grin that was supposed to help. It did little to lessen her blush. "Widow Mayes dropped you off some huckleberries, but they're not sweet."

Orihime looked to the pail. "Oh, good."

"Just follow the trail back?" he asked, glancing to Sylvi.

She nodded.

"Be careful," he told Orihime, taking the few steps to intercept her as she followed Sylvi to the back door.

"I will."

For a moment both Renji and Orihime felt the weight of Sylvi's probing scrutiny on them, something expectant in the girl's attention, expression inquisitive.

Proof, Renji decided.

He caught Orihime's hand, mostly to keep her near, and kissed her cheek as she passed. A small smile came to her lips as he remained close, debating making the contact more convincing.

Her eyes rose to his, seeing for a moment the deliberation in him. Her fingers grazed the hem of his t-shirt before touching her cheek. "You'll be there soon?"

He nodded, hand tightening on hers.

"Okay."

He watched them leave out the backdoor, Orihime glancing back to him for a fleeting moment, her smile widening as they left.

He followed them out a moment later and watched from the porch.

At the shed Sylvi was standing with the horse and Orihime. He watched her speak for a few moments and then pull herself up into the saddle. She took her foot out of the stirrup and Orihime put hers in. He had to grin at the few seconds of hesitation as Orihime made slow work of climbing up onto the horse behind Sylvi. She'd traded her shorts for the typical capris and her sandals for sneakers.

Upstairs the communicator rang again, but Renji waited until the horse and riders were out of sight in the shaded woods before turning to answer it.

* * *

Orihime didn't think much about the ride through he trees to Sylvi's house, and barely paid enough attention to the instructions the blonde girl gave her in the corral at the green and black barn. She nodded fifteen minutes later as Sylvi repeated the instructions as they stood at the wooden fence that circled the corral. In no time flat, Sylvi had added another horse to their plans, saddling a leggy palomino gelding that immediately warmed to Orihime, affectionately rubbing its forehead on her shoulder, nearly knocking her over.

It broke her thoughts from her musing of the recent event in the kitchen. She pulled her thoughts from the brief contact of Renji's lips on her cheek, a slight touch that still left the pink on her face. She blamed the past two days in the sun at the garden, but she knew it wasn't that.

Besides, it wasn't a real kiss. Not intentional. Just for show.

She frowned at that thought.

She blinked as the palomino, named Gingerbread, sniffed her ponytail. She gave him a smile and pet his silky neck as Sylvi measured out the looped reins for her.

Sylvi gave her nudge of an elbow. "Your face is still red." She adjusted the stirrups on either side of the horse and ducked under the gelding's neck. "You still blush when he kisses you?"

Orihime giggled nervously, adding a new layer of red to her checks. "Oh, we've been out in the garden, in the sun. I guess I got a little sunburn."

Sylvi patted the horse's neck. "Okay. Ready to try out Gingerbread?"

Orihime nodded, trying to refocus her thoughts, but not quite succeeding, nor wanting to. "I just climb up?"

Sylvi held the horse's bridle. "Yes. Remember to keep the ball of your foot in the stirrup and your heel pointed down. Boots are better to wear, but we're not doing anything fancy. Ready?"

Orihime nodded again.

It was another few minutes of instruction, and then Orihime felt ready for their first slow walk around the corral. She sat somewhat tensely on the horse, hands clutching the reins, legs clamped around the saddle as the horse followed Sylvi and her horse along the black fence.

"Not hard, is it?" Sylvi asked, turning to look back at her from her horse leading.

"No, not at all." Orihime let her legs relax a little, smiling at the slow motion of the horse as it obediently followed the dun horse. Feeling accomplished as they completed their second circle around the corral, she gave the grounds a better study.

The modest two story house sat between the collection of stables and fenced areas and the road. It was one of the flatter areas Orihime had seen lately, most of the grounds divided by black fencing and sectioned corrals. The trees were mostly along fences or bunched near lean-tos in the pastures where more horses were grazing. It was well-kept, but not expensive, she decided, and most of the horses, Sylvi had explained, were on the older side, past their spunky days.

Orihime looked to the tree tops, expecting to see Renji on a limb. She figured that was what he meant when he said he'd join them later. Her eyes searched the trees, most being broadleaf. She frowned, making another pass over the greenery as the horses began their third circle. She pushed her riding helmet back, frowning as she looked for a familiar black-robed shinigami.

"Want to trot?" Sylvi asked, pivoting in her saddle to see her.

Orihime looked to her. "Sure. That's not too fast, is it?"

Sylvi shook her head, giggling. "No. You'll like it." She cautioned Orihime again about the stirrups, and then clucked her tongue, kicking the dun horse into a jog.

Gingerbread followed suit. Orihime caught her breath at the jarring motion, glad she'd traded her bra for one with more support, and clamped her teeth together to keep them from rattling.

After a round about the corral, Sylvi looked behind her at Orihime and the palomino. "Want to try something smoother?"

"Uh ... yes ... please," Orihime said in jolts as the horse jogged.

"Okay. We'll canter."

Orihime tensed her legs, expecting worse, but Sylvi took the horses into a smooth, gentle lope around the corral. It was an easy gait, welcome after the trot, and Orihime found it simple to move with the horse now. She smiled, giggling as they completed their second pass.

Sylvi pulled the dun horse to a stop and watched Orihime urge the palomino up next to her. "Fun, yeah?"

Orihime nodded quickly. She saw Sylvi look past her, and turned to see Renji approaching across the unfenced yard from the trees. She waved, getting a wave in response.

"Are you going to the town picnic this weekend?" Sylvi asked.

Orihime turned back to her. "I think we are. I read about it in the newspaper."

"You'll like it. Everyone goes. Charlotte Myers will probably win the pie auction. She does every year," Sylvi added in a sour tone. "Are you going to enter a pie?"

Orihime nodded. "I think so. Will you?"

Sylvi shrugged. "Why not? I get shot down every year by Charlotte – everyone does — but Delmar bids most for my entry, so it's not a total bust."

Orihime looked to Renji as he met them at the corral fence, smiling at his grin.

"You look like you know what you're doing up there, Orihime," he said, tugging on her shoe lace as the horse brought her near. "Do you like it?"

She nodded. "It's easy." She stroked Gingerbread's buff colored neck as the horse sniffed Renji's arm on the top fence rail. "You should try it, Renji."

"Maybe another time." His hand slipped to her ankle, making her look to him quickly. "Ready to go home?"

She nodded. "Okay." She turned to Sylvi. "Thanks for teaching me how to ride."

"Anytime. Mom will have horses at the picnic, but anytime you want to ride, come on over. You have my phone number, and my work hours are dropping with fishing and swimming seasons closing up." Sylvi raised an eyebrow at Renji. "We've got plenty of horses."

He dodged Gingerbread's attempt to taste his ponytail as Orihime climbed out of the saddle and dropped to the ground. "Maybe." He tousled Orihime's hair she'd taken out of the ponytail as she removed her riding helmet, grinning at the flush setting over her cheeks. "Wobbly?"

She nodded, making an effort to stand on her legs that felt jellified. She pushed a hand through her hair as Sylvi dismounted and took the helmet from her. "Thanks, Sylvi. It was fun."

Sylvi nodded. "Anytime. See you at the picnic."

The day's heat hadn't lessened much as evening loomed on the west as Renji and Orihime made their way back down the horse trail to the rental house. The muggy air was thick with insects and humidity, and the canopy of trees overheard offered only intermittent shade in what should have been a cooler part of the day.

Orihime found her legs were more than merely wobbly. Twice on the trail she found herself limp, but not quite falling. Renji chuckled and grabbed her hand, pushing a low hanging tree branch out of their way.

"Still shaky?"

"Yes. It was fun, but kind of different. Sylvi said my legs will be sore later," she added, and then regretted it. Her eyes shot ahead of them to the shadowed trail as he looked to her.

"A long bath and you'll be fine."

She nodded.

Renji and Orihime had just made it to the backyard when the smell of smoke grew strong. He pulled her behind him, eyes moving carefully over the premises for the cause of the smell, until spotting the dark gray plume in the early evening sky that originated from across the road.

Orihime tried to peek around him for a better view. "What's burning?"

"Nothing important," he said as they crossed the yard, his posture still alert, but not as wary. "Widow Mayes mentioned she had some brush to burn. Must be that."

Once inside the house, however, the smell of smoke thinned, until Renji preceded Orihime down the upstairs hall for his usual check on the second floor. Here the smell was different; not quite fainter, he decided, but a different type of smoke.

"What is it, Renji?" Orihime asked as he paused them, seeing is attention on her bedroom at the end of the hall. "It still smells like smoke up here, but the windows are open." She turned to look behind them. "We left the windows open. It's too hot to close them."

He nodded, continuing down the hall, frowning as he tried to identify the change in smell. At Orihime's bedroom door it was stronger, unlike the smoke had been from the backyard. He opened the door wide, keeping Orihime behind him out of the room.

He glanced around the room. Everything was in its place; the bed was neatly made, her few personal items and toiletries on the small dresser, window half open. Nothing was disturbed.

"Is everything okay?" she whispered at his shoulder, her fingers pressing at his arm as he studied the room.

Renji finally nodded, passing off the change of smell as something in the breeze that brought it. He looked down to the top of her head, grinning at the zigzag of part in her hair.

"Everything's fine."

She nodded, a slight twinge of soreness catching her lower back, making her moan. "Ugh, I'm already sore."

He watched her hand drop to the back of her shorts as she passed him into the room. "Take a tub. Soak in the bubbles and you'll feel better."

She took her hand from her capris and looked to him, seeing his eyes rise from her most tender area.

He chuckled at the faint blush beginning at her cheeks. "I'll see you downstairs after your tub."

"Okay."

He pulled the door most of the way shut and went back down the hall, still conscious of the smell of smoke, trying to place the distinct change he couldn't quite pass off as his imagination.

He paused at the window at the end of the hall near the stairs and his bedroom that overlooked the front yard. The smoke that was curling up from Mayes' place was getting thinner, dissolving into the lavender dusk skies. Behind him he heard the tub water run from the bathroom, and then a soft, muted grunt from Orihime as she closed the door.

He figured he'd meant it, telling her how he felt about Rukia and Ichigo. Jealousy came in many forms, and sometimes the strains ran closely together. He figured the emotion could be just as intense, whether romantic or brotherly. He hadn't thought much about it before Ichigo had entered Rukia's life.

Having his childhood friend need anyone other than him was new. Ichigo had stepped into that role, the role of protector and companion that Renji had always had.

He turned from the window and looked down the hall as the smell of jasmine scented bubbles invaded the remnants of smoke.

It was definitely a better trade.


	11. Proven

Left to her own devices with a bake sale and pie competition in the near future, Orihime threw herself into making something of sweet bean paste. A few trips to the small grocer in Chesney proved there was no such ingredient to be found, so she improvised.

It was after checking the mail one afternoon which coincided with Mayes' at her own mail box that Orihime found her inspiration. That was what she called it; Renji wasn't sure what it was yet, but he knew he was on the receiving end of it.

He'd lived through a bout in Eleventh Division, through battling his own captain, and assorted other trials, so he decided willing guinea pig to Orihime's culinary challenges should be something he could weather.

He had second thoughts on that as he watched her vigorously mixing a ceramic bowl in the ever-warming kitchen late the next afternoon, sensing something almost ominous in her soft smile as she incessantly beat the light brown mixture in the bowl.

"If I make little pastries or tarts of different kinds," she said, smiling into the bowl as she rapidly stirred the spoon, "then you can taste them all and decide which are okay. Then we won't have a lot of big pies that aren't ..." the stirring slowed a little, "...very good."

He nodded, leaning against the countertop behind him, watching the bowl that was locked into place against her chest as much as the slight pout that formed at her lips as she had chosen her words. "Hey, I'm up for a challenge," he said, chuckling, pulling at the too warm t-shirt at his chest. "You can't go wrong with..." He stopped, shaking his head, recalling bits of the conversation he'd heard when she'd spoken to the widow at the mail box. "You're not using sweet bean paste, are you?"

She shook her head, glancing at him without breaking her rhythm with the spoon. "But it's close, I think. Mock sweet bean paste. I want to try different varieties."

He wondered _how_ mock, but didn't ask. Watching her mix the batter reminded him that he had been putting off parts of his paperwork. He watched the top of her lowered head as she intently mixed the bowl. "It's just a bake sale and pie auction, right?"

She nodded and set the bowl on the counter, eyeing the large sack of flour and other ingredients lined on the counter. "Sylvi said Charlotte Myers always does well at the pie auction, but I want to enter, too." She pulled a few pre-made mini pastry crust tins closer. "These are just for sampling, so small ones are okay. Widow Mayes said she'd send over a crust recipe for me to use later."

The name Charlotte Myers rang a bell in Renji's mind, and he went to the refrigerator to find the previous day's newspaper. It was curled with humidity and ink smudged from being handled in the warm room earlier. "I think that girl's name was in the news," he said, leaning on the counter next to her again and sifting through the paper to find the article. It hadn't been one of the names he'd been looking for, but the annual picnic was a nice deflection from news on the escaped prison inmates.

She looked to him as he folded the paper and angled the story closer for her to see.

"She's not entering this year," he said, leaning to her as her eyes rested on the black and white photo of Charlotte accepting an earlier year's pie award. "A little less competition, eh?"

She nodded, skimming the article. "Ooh, she made raspberry rhubarb last year."

He set the paper aside and watched her divide the batter into four separate smaller mixing bowls and add in a dollop of what looked to be jam from the other jars on the counter. From his angle he could see the slight shadow on her skin at her collar, a natural shading of cleavage he knew he shouldn't be looking at when she could catch him.

"I read ahead in the paperwork I'm supposed to send to Fourth Division," he said, watching her drop a spoonful of jam-like substance into the last bowl and mix it in. "There are new instructions for the orange vials you're taking," he said, finally deciding there was no easier way to say what he was going to.

She looked quickly to him, eyes widening.

He shook his head. "Just ... different instructions."

She nodded slowly, eyes dropping to the countertop as his hand gripped harder at the edge. "How are they different?"

The heat of the sun coming through the kitchen window seemed to press incessantly on Renji's back as he considered his phrasing. Apparently Isane hadn't read the entire packet of paperwork or else assumed there was nothing in it to give him pause. Maybe not for a medical figure, he decided, but definitely for someone else. Like him.

He shrugged, hoping the sun would quit burning a hole in his back. His agitation was matched by Orihime's reluctance to hear what she knew he didn't want to say. She slowly mixed in the spoonful of jam to the filling.

"Nothing invasive," he said hastily. "Just another step in the paperwork. Just ... visual inspection. By you," he added hastily when her attention flicked to him and then back to the bowl. "The orange vials are a sort of, uh, intermission in the treatment. They don't have much impact," he said, trying to remember how Isane had termed it in her static-laden phone call. "It's to see if any symptoms reappear."

The last term made her sigh, nodding. "I see. Okay."

"You just tell me if any of the same problems come back, like when you first noticed it. Before," he said, easing away from the landmine of visual inspection. He knew she was consciously not looking at him, which was good, he figured. "So, let me know if there are ... changes. Okay?"

"Okay."

For a few long moments silence and heat hung heavy in the kitchen as Orihime beat every air bubble out of the four small bowls of mixture, both she and Renji seeking something to say.

"But the red vials," she finally said, hoping her cheeks weren't scarlet, "are they anything? Are they really treatment? Or just, well, just colored water?"

"No, those are more treatment," he said, realizing he'd crumpled the newspaper article in his right hand. He relaxed it, looking down to see the photo of Charlotte Myers and the Ladies Auxiliary members distorted faces from his clutch. He set it on the counter behind him and put his other hand on Orihime's arm holding the small tart shell before her. "Listen, you just tell me if anything seems different. Any changes. Just like the last week," he said as she slowly looked to him. "I think it's just a test period. That's all."

She nodded, a hint of smile at her lips as his thumb rubbed across her skin, somehow calming the flurry of surprise the lapse in protocol had brought up. "I will."

"Good. Isane said there'd be a second set of vials, but they'll send those later, once you're using the red ones." He felt her skin tense as her fingers pulled the last crust tin closer to fill. "Captain Kurotsuchi wants to talk to Urahara about the next phase. Meeting of the minds, you know."

She nodded, smiling a little less until her eyes went to his hand on her arm.

A knock at the front door brought both their attentions to the next room.

"Stay here," he said, moving away to lock the back screen door before going into the living room.

"Okay."

At the living room's screen door Renji could see Reese standing on the front porch. He sized up the handyman, recalling Mayes' words.

He opened the screen, blocking the doorway. "Widow Mayes was looking for you."

Reese smiled, something Szayel had made him practice lately while inhabiting and alternately possessing him. "Yes, we spoke earlier."

Renji nodded, detecting a fainter smell of cigarettes about him. "What's that?"

Reese held up a ceramic pie dish decorated with blueberries around the border. "The Widow said to bring this over for Orihime to use." He smiled, looking past Renji to what he could see of the kitchen beyond the room. "Is she here?"

Renji scowled at him. "I'll give it to her." He took the pie pan before it was offered, and then looked to what Reese held in his other hand. Immediately every alert bristled in him as Reese raised the two metal blades.

"Oh, these?" The handyman waved the long blades shoulder height, watching Renji's eyes follow. "These are sharpened blades for the mower device. Widow said the ones on your device are probably dull."

Renji wasn't sure what bothered him about the man's demeanor, whether it was the sharp mower blades he seemed to nearly wield or the man's eyes searching out the kitchen. He closed the screen door as Reese was about to step in. "I'll give this to Orihime and meet you in back at the shed."

Reese looked a little disappointed, but stepped back as Renji gave him a warning glance, and then shut the heavy front door.

"Who was that?" Orihime asked as Renji entered the kitchen.

He'd rather have watched her put the small pies in the oven, but instead he set the plate on the counter. "Reese. Widow Mayes sent you a pie thing. Dish. I'll be back in a minute."

"Oh, good. I don't have one and she said she'd lend us one." She watched him go out the back door, and then glanced out the kitchen window at the yard and garden.

In the yard Reese looked back at her, nodding and grinning when she spotted him at the garden. She didn't wave, but went back to preparing the mini pies, one eye on Renji as he met the handyman. She couldn't hear them speaking, but she knew Renji well enough to know his posture wasn't exactly pleased about the other man's visit.

A sudden catch in her chest made her put a hand there, pressing against her left breast as a fleeting pressure passed. She breathed slower, frowning at the pie plate Mayes had lent them. She took a slow deep breath, feeling no resistance this time.

She supposed it was just Renji's news of the orange vials being nothing that made her think of the pressure as a symptom. She shook her head, pulling the plate closer to see the fancy blueberries painted on the ceramic edges, smiling at the recipe for a "Perfect Pie Crust" printed on the plate's inside bottom. She gave a cautious glance out the window to see Renji and Reese at the shed, and then moved from the sink.

She pressed her hand to her chest again, feeling nothing different, no shallow indentation, no sinking or tenderness. "It's nothing," she murmured, picking the collar of her tank top away from her chest to examine the skin there. Nothing was different, no discoloration, no misalignment.

She shook the twinge of pressure from her mind and looked back at the small pies awaiting her attention. Nothing to tell Renji about.

At the shed Renji was watching Reese with a newfound scrutiny. For five minutes the handyman had been talking.

"... anything of that nature," Reese explained, rather well, "is entirely within my realm of expertise. I consider myself something of an inventor for devices. Are you certain there is nothing needing maintenance on the premises?"

Renji scowled at him. "Are you drunk?"

Reese grinned. "Why, no, of course not. Oh, did the Widow tell you that?" He waved a hand toward the house out of sight across the yards. "Yes, I thought I would clean myself out and stop my nicotine dependency. It's very challenging."

Renji nodded, shrugging. "Good for you, but don't ever come around here when I'm not here, and if we need any maintenance, I'll do it."

Reese's smile fell. "But I'm supposed to assist. That is what I do." He paused, thinking for a moment. "Is the washing machine working correctly?"

"Yes. I'll take care of the mower blades. Thanks for bringing them by."

Reese looked down at the spare blades, their edges newly sharpened, and then his glance shifted to the kitchen window, and then the long grass covering the yard. "Is the mowing device working properly?"

Renji stuck his hand out. "Give me the blades. I'll take care of it." His hand closed on the metal pieces as Reese begrudgingly gave them up. "So what did you do? Give up smoking and buy a better vocabulary?"

This time Reese looked at him with a pointed study. "Again, Renji? Vocabulary?" He chuckled, unable to keep his attention from the kitchen window. His dark eyes slid back to Renji. "Oh, quite no. I think bettering one's self is for the best, don't you? Not perfection, but a degree of ..." he paused, watching Renji's scowl deepen. "I guess the smoke clouded my thinking. I feel much better now."

"Good." Renji nodded toward the side of the house. "Tell Widow Mayes thanks for the pie dish."

Reese sighed. "I shall do that." He moved away from the shed, looking to the garden. "Oh, say, if –"

"We don't need any help, Reese," Renji said, following him closely. "See ya."

"Of course."

Reese turned and left around the house, taking the long way around the garden, adding a few comments about weed control that Renji dismissed.

Renji followed him to the side of the house, watching as the handyman intercepted the walk at the front and took it down the drive and across the road. A moment later Mayes' voice shouted at the handyman from her residence about being late, and Renji assumed he was gone.

He returned the mower blades to the back porch and went into the kitchen, greeted by a mixture of berries, beans, and molasses from the oven. Orihime was mixing up yet another bowl of lumpy batter.

"How many pies are you going to make?" He bent to see the small tins in the oven. They all looked pretty much the same to him.

"Just those. This is cookie dough."

He stood and looked over her shoulder at the bowl in her arms. "What kind? Not bean."

"Sweet potato. They're almost like yams," she told him. She set the bowl down and picked up a smaller spoon. "Try some."

Before he could answer, she scooped a spoonful of lumpy gold colored batter and held it up for him.

"Sweet potato, eh?" He took the spoon and ate it as she nodded hopefully at him.

"I thought that it would be the same as peanut butter cookies, except with potatoes." She watched for signs of acceptance on his face, her smile hesitant.

He nodded, swallowing what was an odd but tasty flavor. "I like it. Save some for us; not just the bake sale."

Her smile widened as she held up the spoon in triumph. "I'll make a double batch Saturday morning."

"Good."

A crack of thunder broke through the air, sounding misplaced in the bright late afternoon. They both looked out the window at the hazy, hot sky.

"Sounds like a storm's coming," he said, searching for any sign of clouds amid the tree tops. "Maybe we can get rid of some of this humidity."

She wiped a loose strand of auburn hair from her face, trying to link it over her ear. "I should have waited for a cooler time to heat up the oven."

"It might be even hotter tomorrow."

She sampled the batter from the spoon. "Do you think it has too much pepper?"

He frowned at the bowl. "You put pepper in it?"

She looked up at him. "Chili pepper. Too much?"

"Nope."

She spent a moment dropping the cookie batter onto a baking sheet, her face half shrouded by the ponytail that kept swinging over her shoulder. Renji caught it once and tucked it over her back, mind roving over something that had troubled him since Mayes had brought it up.

"You really want to eat pie with a stranger?" he asked. It had surprised him that she'd want to enter the contest with such a prize at stake, but she'd taken a few bolder steps since her decision about Ichigo and Rukia, so maybe he didn't know her as well as he thought he did.

She cocked her head to him, pausing as she dropped the last row of cookies. "Who?"

She resumed dispensing the batter, wiping the side of one cookie that had dripped mixture.

"Whoever bids highest for your pie." He leaned against the counter, seeing confusion crowd the gray-violet of her eyes.

She giggled, shaking her head as she moved with the cookie sheet to the hot oven. "I won't win, Renji."

"You don't have to win, but you'll still have to sit with the highest bidder for dessert."

She put the cookies in the oven, shut the door and turned to frown at him. "I do?"

He nodded as she came back to the counter beside him. "You didn't know that?"

She shook her head, frowning at the idea as her fingers traced the blueberry pattern on the pie plate. "I thought that was just for the winner of the competition," she mused, glancing to the oven. "I didn't know ... so that's what Sylvi meant," she said more to herself.

"You really didn't know that part?"

She sighed, slowly looking to him. "No. Maybe I can just take donations for the bake sale."

He shook his head at the disappointment invading her face. "Go ahead and enter, Orihime. I'll bid." He took her hand as it paused on the pie plate. "If anyone outbids me, I'll just break their neck."

She smiled at his grin, shaking her head.

"Yeah, I will."

She let him pull her closer, conscious of the faint smell of his aftershave contrasting with the cookies, looking farther up as he stood straighter. "You don't have to bid, Renji," she said, still hoping not to dissuade him.

"I want to." He took her other hand, placing it at his side so he could put both arms around her, feeling no hesitation in her fingers as they pressed against his t-shirt. "You think we convinced your friend we're really here together?"

A few replies swept through Orihime's mind, but she didn't say any of them, instead leaning into him as his embrace tightened around her. She let her arms answer his strong hold, pulling him closer as his face lowered, lips pressing to hers in light contact that turned firmer.

Her surprise slipped away with her awkwardness, hands gliding up his back as he anchored her against him, returning the warm pressure of his kiss with a ready response, the quick beat in her chest in no way confused with some vial of remedy. His arm moved beneath her hair, lips a gentle touch on hers that made her breath halt, eyes half closed at the smell of musk on him, wishing he'd made such a move sooner.

Like a year ago.

A loud crash of thunder broke their moment, making Orihime flinch and Renji's arms automatically contracted around her until she nearly gasped. He let his embrace ease, but not allow her to move away.

"Sorry," he murmured, grinning at her blushing smile as the smell of cookies grew stronger.

"It's raining," she said, not looking to the window over the sink, but hearing the soft patter of raindrops begin in the muggy air.

He nodded, letting her ponytail sift through his fingers at her back, liking the fit her body made in his arms. "That wasn't to prove anything to your new friend."

She giggled, hands following the back of his shirt to his shoulders, smiling as she looked to each of his eyes, trying to decide their exact color of chocolate. She couldn't blame all the heat on her cheeks from the oven, but liked his arms secure around her. "I think I should check on the cookies."

His eyes dropped to her lips again, seeing the small smile still on them as her arms lowered to his waist.

His communicator suddenly warbled into life from his back pocket.

"Dammit," he muttered, unlacing one arm around her to answer it.

Orihime reluctantly slipped from him, watching him check the call. He snapped the communicator shut and glanced to her, the pink still on her cheeks.

"Just Isane. I'll call her back in a while." He nodded to the oven. "It's hotter than hell in here. Can you bake the rest of the cookies later when it's cooler?"

She tapped the back of flour bag on the counter. "The recipe says I can refrigerate the dough."

"Good. Let's get supper from town." His hand dropped to the hem of her shorts, tugging on a blue turned cuff. "You'll be in the kitchen enough getting ready for the picnic. We'll bring a pizza back and camp out in front of the TV this evening. Sound good with you?"

She nodded eagerly, smiling at his grin. "Oh, yes."


	12. Manipulation

Szayel preferred to use Morgan as his physical body, unless he needed to move about the Widow Mayes' premises or was on an errand to the house across the road. Then he used Reese.

While the handyman was more practical for public display, he'd learned, Morgan was stronger and had the physical emphasis he needed.

Nyles, on the other hand, was a sore disappointment. And nearly dead.

Morgan returned the escaped inmate within a reasonable amount of time to Reese's small living quarters and Szayel, using Reese, had reattached the large man's arm with his rudimentary packet of necessities kept in his arm, just beneath his spiritual skin. Nyles had not cleaned up well, but with a few replacement parts from other body areas within the inmate and salvaging a portion of his intestines, Szayel had made a passably working Nyles.

But not a very happy one.

Nyles sat against the wall that evening, shaken and pale as the Espada now possessing Morgan studied the newspaper.

"Reese," the Espada said within Morgan. He looked over to the handyman still draped in a chair, nicotine-deprived and weak with hunger. "You have a few tasks coming up soon," Szayel told him, "so you'll need to replenish your strength so you can mingle with the public." He looked back to the paper as the handyman shook his head.

"I don't wanna do this," Reese said. The last twenty-four hours had taxed his mental and emotional states, and he wasn't too sure anything he was seeing was real. "Don't send me back there." He did, however, have brief glimpses of memory as to what Szayel had used him for. "I don't want nothin' to do with the girl or the red-haired man. Leave me out of anything with them."

Szayel didn't look at him, still intently studying Hisagi's photo in the newspaper. "What you _want_ is irrelevant. These living town people," he said, smiling smugly at the article he had had Morgan read to him earlier, "and this upcoming gathering for the picnic is perfect for my next experiment. I think you'll be my catalyst for that."

He set the paper on the table and looked to the window of the small kitchen area as the sky darkened with clouds. A smile twisted his face as he looked to the barely conscious form of Nyles at the wall. "I shall set to work on you presently," he promised. "It won't be my finest craftsmanship, but you need only have the vague appearance. My manipulation into her psyche should do the rest."

Nyles shook his head with the last of his strength. What little he'd heard of the conversations that afternoon had made him wish he was still dying in the field where Morgan had found him. "You're a sick bastard, you know it?"

Szayel laughed, a booming sound with Morgan's voice. "You don't like the idea of playing your part? This could be a great role. A challenge. I myself will help you, but your physical form must be adjusted."

He turned in the chair, Morgan's newly reattached arm still laced with red stitches as it hung over the back of the wooden frame. Morgan was still anemic and depleted, but the state left the inmate more easily controlled by Szayel. He flicked a few fingers at Nyles in an airy gesture.

"Your hair. Your face. Your build will serve," he said, more to himself than his horrified subject. "Your height will suffice." He frowned primly at Nyles, an expression nearly comical on Morgan's large features. "But you'll need to work on your stance and behavior. These shinigami are all confident, and you lack that." He looked back to the newspaper, ignoring the trembling now passing over Nyles as he suspected what the Espada had planned.

"Your face," Szayel said, studying the photo accompanying the article. "Yes, I can work with what you have. If only I had my laboratory. Ah, what I could do then!" He laughed, nodding at the paper. "Yes, what I could do, indeed..."

* * *

The afternoon progressed into evening, darkness falling too quickly as the storm clouds moved in and overtook the sunlight for a steamy heat until a slight drizzle started. The pressing humidity magnified into a sweltering thickness that neither Renji nor Orihime could ignore.

Every fan in the house was turned up to high or medium, the hum competing with the TV as Renji settled on the couch for selecting among the limited stations they received.

He'd had his last call from Isane – or anyone else from Soul Society, he figured – and the communicator had fuzzed into crackling silence for the last time half an hour ago. He was without communication to Soul Society, but it wasn't as hopeless a feeling as his last time he'd chaperoned Orihime.

Isane had promised reserves, of some sort, and Renji was confident it wouldn't be too long.

He hoped not.

He flicked through the TV channels, letting some of Reese's conversation from earlier play through his mind. The handyman had raised his suspicions, mostly due to the man's talkativeness, but also his change in habit.

There wasn't the usual smell of old cigarette smoke about him, and the absence made Renji realize that _that_ had been the smell he and Orihime had detected when Mayes had been burning brush.

It was cigarette smoke, not brushfire smoke that he'd smelled upstairs after returning with Orihime from Sylvi's house.

He slowed his thoughts, pointing the remote control at the TV and clicking through the few stations faster. That was what bothered him more than the handyman's attempt to better himself. Of course, it _could_ be cigarette smoke he'd smelled from Mayes' brushfire; maybe that was where Reese had been, cleaning up his act and burning his unused cigarette stash. It would explain the smell.

The living room was dark except for the light from the TV and the small lamp on the stand beside the sofa that had a dim watt bulb in it. He was still running on the very basics of clothing, and had nothing along the line of sleepwear.

What he did have was a pair of black sweat pants. The house was far too hot to don a shirt, but he found a gray cotton one that he left unbuttoned. Supper had been a drive to town for pizza and sampling of the mini pies Orihime had made. He was still unsure about which he liked best, and surprised that there was actually a dilemma over the choice. He found himself rethinking other parts of the afternoon.

He looked up as Orihime appeared at the bottom of the stairs. He grinned at her hesitation, trying to give her attire of lavender shorts and camisole a better glimpse without appearing to. She wore an open kiwi green blouse over the camisole, modesty making her choices, and her hair was still damp from her shower and starting to billow in the muggy night.

He patted the couch cushion beside him. "Come on over. The kitchen is still too warm."

She nodded, but then ducked into the kitchen.

Renji frowned. "Hey, Orihime, I meant ..."

She reappeared with a plate of cookies and two glasses of lemonade almost immediately. "Are you hungry?"

He wasn't, but nodded anyway as she sat next to him and handed him a glass. She drew her legs to her side and took a long drink of the beverage.

"Set it over here," he said, taking the glass from her as she started to put it on the floor by the couch. He took a cookie as she seated the plate better on her lap.

"Thanks." She took a minute to get comfortable, her elbow edging his side twice as she murmured apologies, balancing the plate piled with cookies. She looked to the TV as his arm went behind her along the top of the couch. "What are you watching?"

"Some movie that's been on for a while, I think."

They finished off the movie and moved on to the only sports channel that came in in the hollow. A moment later they found a rerun of a college soccer game.

Orihime let herself settle at his side, feeling a contentedness she hadn't in a long time, and allowed herself to let go of the possibilities plaguing her new physiology. It was being corrected, she reminded herself. Urahara's protocol was in place and she was far away from any spiritual pressure. Even Renji was in gigai.

A very good gigai, she decided, looking up at him as his arm rested closer along the back of the couch.

He glanced to her. "Too warm?"

She shook her head. "No. It's fine."

He nodded, watching her knees angle toward his leg as she offered a cookie to him. "Ready for the picnic?"

She nodded, her nearly dry hair just under his chin as she found another cookie. She blamed most of the pink heating her cheeks on the warm day, but not all of it. She'd lived alone long enough to face down a few situations involving the opposite sex, usually ones involving a nosey, persistent classmate that followed her home after ignoring a brush-off at school.

She was accustomed to being alone in her own small apartment in Karakura Town.

But here, now with Renji beside her, brought a quickness to her heartbeat she liked, and she blamed none of _that_ on whatever Hollow tendencies she was fighting off.

"Thanks," she said as he handed her her glass and took a long drink of his own.

"Isane called while you were in the shower. My communicator is dead," he admitted with a sigh, "but she said someone's coming with your school paperwork and a few more supplies. I'm not sure exactly what that includes, but I guess we need it. Probably pick up the reports, too."

"Oh, do you know who?" She took a long drink of lemonade.

"No, that part had too much static to hear." He finished his drink. "Don't worry about it. It's just paperwork."

She nodded. He set her glass on the stand and caught most of a grin as she waited for him to continue. "You ready for school to start?"

"Yes. I don't want to fall behind in classes."

"You won't." He picked a strand of auburn hair that lay on her shoulder. "You're a good student, right?"

"Not always." She smiled, turning more towards him, her left knee resting on his thigh. "Oh, sorry," she said, moving the plate of cookies as the last few slid to one side and nearly off the plate.

He set the plate on the lamp stand beside him. He looked down at her bent knee as she eased it from him. "You don't have to move," he said, his hand catching behind her knee.

She let her leg lean to his, too warm at the proximity but unwilling to move away. She felt his fingers tense behind her knee as he leaned to her, kissing her softly for a slow moment. Unconsciously her hand caught the edge of his shirt, pulling him in to her as the soccer game turned to a commercial break, her eyes closing to the dim light of the TV. Her other arm circled his neck, fingers traipsing along the black jags of tattoos, the taut skin there smooth beneath her touch as his grip on her knee tightened.

He tasted of lemonade and cinnamon, she thought, like the cookies, lips growing firmer on hers after the first contact. Orihime wondered only briefly why her reservations dropped so easily with him, feeling his lips move to one corner of her mouth in a slow kiss that made her throat flush warm.

It wasn't until she felt his fingers lace the back of her leg above her knee that she entirely recalled she wasn't in Karakura anymore. Or even Japan.

She pulled away slightly, catching her breath as her eyes opened to his. For a moment she stared back, the hitch in her breath making her swallow quickly.

"You smell good," he said, kissing her eye. "Oranges or something." He knew it wasn't strawberries.

She blinked, smiling. "Apricot." She sat up more as his arm slipped from her leg to her back, pulling her from what had become a slouch on the sofa.

"Apricot."

She nodded, sitting straighter to kiss the side of his mouth as he turned to intercept the touch. She remained close, liking how his arm anchored her to his chest.

"Renji," she said reluctantly. "I think I should go to my room now."

He didn't nod, but it was in his tone. "You sure?" He brushed a strand of hair from her face that had fallen over her eye. "We can just sit here. Watch the game. Nothing else, Orihime."

She nodded, glimpsing to the TV where the soccer game had resumed. "I think I should go up."

He watched her fingers toy with the hem of his shirt, waiting, wishing she'd take a bolder opportunity. Even a small one. "All right."

He let her sit back, grinning more when he realized the thump against his chest was her heartbeat, too. "Okay."

It was another moment, and a quiet kiss, before Orihime stood up with him, taking half a step back from her impulse to sit down and pull him with her to the sofa. She blushed full force at that thought, and turned to collect her glass.

"I'll take care of those," he said, catching her hand. "I'll be down for a while yet."

She nodded, smiling up at him as he took her other hand and kissed her once.

"Sleep well."

"You, too, Renji."

The somewhat clumsy moment passed, and they went their separate ways, as much as they were able to in the house.

Orihime to her room.

Renji to check the door locks for the night, and rethink a cold shower. He didn't think he was due one, not quite yet, but the day was hot and humid, and it wasn't likely to get any cooler sitting in the dark. Thinking.

About her.

He shook his head and checked the door locks.

Orihime headed upstairs, leaving Renji in the darkened living room as rain poured outside, the heat of the day still crowding the house, and mostly her, or so it seemed. She smiled as she climbed the stairs.

Camping with Renji was low key, consisting of a pizza, leftover baked sweets, and a rerun soccer match, but she liked it. A lot. Maybe it was just the change of scenery, a new house, that made it seem natural to be with him.

He wasn't new to her; that was certain.

Maybe it had been something forming in the background for the last few years. She nodded, passing down the hall, closing the door to her bedroom and flicking the lamp on at her bed.

The storm moved in more now and took over the night sky, threatening power outages and heavy rains, but all it really did was provide a steady downpour into the humid dark.

She smiled and pulled off her over shirt.

A loud crack of thunder echoed through the room, followed by several streaks of lightning out the pulled curtains of the window. She went to the back window and lowered the glass pane more as raindrops bounced in.

A series of thunder rolls rumbled as Orihime readied for bed, promising herself certain dreams for the night.

Through the thunder, neither Orihime nor Renji heard the painful cries of the man across the road as Szayel conducted his next bout of impromptu tissue manipulation.


	13. Face in the Crowd

The day of the picnic dawned hot and miserable. By the time Renji and Orihime left for town with a heavy pie and several dozen cookies the day was scorching.

They parked in the lot at the park where it looked like everyone in town had turned out for the annual event. Sounds of instruments warming up for the entertainment promised that afternoon and evening were heard over the few carnival rides and general milling of visitors. Renji and Orihime crossed past the wooden posts planted in concrete and other lumber rail barriers that had been set up to direct traffic near the parking lot. Some of them were roped off with burly wire cables to direct the parking, and a few of the concrete buckets holding the wooden posts had been moved by some of the more rebellious of guests for easier parking. They quickly dissolved into the festivities on the oak and elm treed park where music and delicious smells lured them.

Orihime held the pie close, smiling at the prospect of a busy day. Beside her Renji was carrying a double stacked plate of cookies. Already the crowd was noisy and eating at the local concessions set up near the stage area.

"Hey! You made it!"

Renji and Orihime looked to Silvi as she met them with a hamper hooked under her arm. Her attire of denim shorts and shade of purple tank top was similar to Orihime's, although lacking in volume.

"Hi," Orihime said, nervously looking to the hamper. "Are we supposed to pack baskets?" It hadn't occurred to her to do so.

Silvi shook her head. "It's not necessary, but most competitors do." She looked to Renji. "Guess it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Nope. She's eating with me." He saw the blush slip over Orihime's cheeks, and for some reason it made him grin wider. "When is this pie auction?"

"This afternoon, at four." Silvi pointed to where the stage was setting up. Instruments warming up picked at the air. "That's the first entertainment." She squealed a giggle, startling both Renji and Orihime. "It's the Georgia Satellites! Geez, they're like the biggest band we've had in years! Except tonight." She fidgeted with excitement. "George Thorogood and the Delaware Destroyers! Can you believe it?"

Neither Renji nor Orihime got it, nor did they understand her excitement.

"Funny, two George bands and two states." Silvi composed herself. "Anyway, we've got to go check in, Orihime. We've got the regulations to read," she said, rolling her eyes, "about food safety and all that stuff. Ladies Auxiliary, you know."

"Oh, okay." Orihime looked to Renji. "I'll take the cookies."

"I'll go with you," he said, managing the plates on one hand to put the other arm around her shoulder.

"Are those for the bake sale?" Silvi asked.

Orihime nodded. "Individually wrapped."

"Those go over there." Silvi pointed to a canopied table where there was a line already forming one on side. On the other, people were eating baked goods as a clown tried to sell them helium balloons.

Renji's fingers tightened on Orihime's shoulder. "We'll drop this off and Orihime can meet you for the check in. Where is that?"

Silvi nodded to a table near the stage that was wrapped in multi-colored grass skirts. "Widow Mayes is there already. Catch you there?" she asked Orihime.

"Okay." Orihime waved a few fingers from under her pie plate. "In a few minutes."

Renji and Orihime moved off to the canopied table as Silvi left. He didn't like the idea of Orihime's baked goods being auctioned off, and possibly not to him. It hadn't seemed like too much of a chance a few days ago, but now, as his eyes narrowed on the large number of teenage boys and twenty-something men in the mass of people, he liked it even less. Some of these males she'd be going to school with, and all would get a good look at her during the judging.

He had a little more confidence in the fact that he'd taken out a large chunk of cash at the bank ATM before they got to the picnic, and a little more assured that, failing out-bidding any other interested parties, he could always pound them into disinterest.

As they moved through the crowd, however, some of those assurances were in question. There were a lot of teens and young males present, and some were rather large, wearing football jerseys.

Orihime looked up at him as Renji's hand clamped harder on her shoulder.

He saw her look and eased his fingers to a gentler hold on her skin. "Don't be smiling too much at the bidders," he said, only half joking.

She smiled, leaning a bit closer as they reached the canopied table. "I don't think anyone will know what my pie is. Maybe they won't have heard of mock sweet bean paste."

"Yeah, well, that's fine with me," he said into her ear, watching her smile more. He didn't say the bidding may have nothing to do with knowledge of sweet bean paste.

She turned her head as a plump woman in a yellow dress came up to them, and Renji got a face full of Orihime's auburn ponytail that smelled faintly of peaches.

"Bake sale?" the woman asked, giving Renji and his tattoos a long look.

Orihime nodded.

"Ooh, what did you bring?" a girl at the table asked. She was about Orihime's age, with a yellow tank top and blonde hair streaked with pink. She hopped up from her chair with the other older women. She gave Renji a wide smile and he recognized her from the newspaper photo.

Orihime knew who she was, too. "Hi. Yes, it's cookies."

"Oh, good. I'll take care of them," the girl said to the older woman, and then gave Orihime a lengthy look, as if sizing her up, and then sent Renji a sideways glance. "You're new here?"

He nodded.

When he didn't expound, she gave a flip of her hair, turning back to the table. "Welcome." She leaned over the table to find a few index cards and a pen among the baked goods and other filled out cards, giving them – Renji, actually – an opportunistic angle of the back of her white shorts as she did.

Orihime felt an odd sensation pass through her, something she hadn't felt in a long time, and this wave of selfishness was rare to her, a different feeling she wasn't quite used to.

The girl smiled, handing them the cards and pen. "I'm Charlotte Myers," she said, reaching for the plates in Renji's hand. "I'll take those."

Moments later they had dropped off the cookies, and both Renji and Orihime left the table and baked goods feeling uneasy; Orihime because Charlotte was prettier in person than in her black and white newspaper photo, and Renji for reasons he couldn't quite identify.

Orihime pushed the twinge of unease from her mind and focused instead on walking with Renji through the shifting crowd to the table set up for the auction pies.

Silvi was already there, Delmar with her, trying to sample the pie she had brought. She batted his hand away. "At least we don't have to worry about Charlotte this year," she said, nodding to the other table where the blonde and pink haired girl was checking in baked goods. "That should make bidding easier. I think the whole football team bid on her pie last year."

Orihime shot a glance to Charlotte. "She's popular?"

Silvi nodded. "Yeah, among the guys anyway."

Delmar grinned, giving Silvi a nudge.

Renji crossed his arms at his chest as Orihime moved down the table with Silvi where the other pies were already labeled and arranged with baskets and colorful gingham napkins. Window Mayes was behind the table, moving items around, grumbling with several other auxiliary members who were equal in age and temperament.

Renji waited until the girls had moved away, leaving him with Delmar at the end of the table, before speaking.

"How well do you know this Reese from Widow Mayes' place?" he asked.

Delmar frowned, shrugging. "He's okay. Used to drink a lot; Widow made him clean up. He does odd jobs around the Hollow. No trouble really. Widow keeps him in line." He glanced around, and then waited out a blare of the loudspeakers to continue. "Ya got trouble with him?"

"No; just curious."

Delmar nodded. "Yeah, well, I think I know what ya mean, man. I'm leaving for school and that puts Silvi on her own her senior year." He looked fondly to where she and Orihime were speaking with Mayes. "Never realized how many guys there were in her class."

Renji watched Orihime nod as she spoke to Mayes, giving the old woman half a bow. He didn't much like her starting school either, but it was in the works, so long as the paperwork from Soul Society came through. He couldn't hang around the school like last time in shinigami form; he was supposed to remain in gigai as much as possible.

"This auction," he said, moving to subject, "how does that work?"

Delmar grinned, watching Silvi speak to Mayes. "Like any auction, really; highest bidder gets the pie and to sit with the pie maker."

Renji nodded.

Several moments later Renji and Orihime were off to explore the park grounds. The sunny day was crowded with people and sounds, petting farm animals and carnival games, and music. Over the next few hours they sampled most of the food fare at the concession stands and local project goods, with Orihime adding to an ever increasing stash of homemade jams. At the Hit-the-Clown booth he won her a stuffed raccoon. She immediately cuddled it under one arm, beaming and blushing.

They also had a following. Renji noticed it, the few teen boys who followed at a distance, three of which wore red and white jerseys, another who looked a little older than high school.

"Is that Reese over there?" Orihime asked, breaking Renji's attention on the four guys slowly nearing in the crowded lanes of the park vendors and visitors.

He looked to where she pointed. It was Reese, standing on the other side of a concession, smoking.

Orihime's fingers closed over Renji's arm, leaning to him to be heard over the concert warming up on the stage.

He chuckled. "So much for breaking bad habits."

Half hidden at the back of two vendor trailers, Reese was nearly enveloped in a cloud of smoke.

"Shit, he's smoking two cigarettes," Renji said, cocking his head to one side to see the handyman better between the trailers. "He's got two in his mouth and he's lighting another one."

Orihime sighed, peeking at the nicotine-deprived handyman. "Poor guy."

Renji didn't think it was _poor guy_. They watched Reese inhale from the two cigarettes, fingers shaky as he tried to put the third between his lips.

"Come on," Renji said, taking Orihime's arm and turning her away. "Let's get ice cream before the auction."

She nodded eagerly, slinging her bag over her shoulder and anchoring the raccoon beneath.

He picked the bag strap off her shoulder and slid it from her arm. "Damn, how much jam did we get already?"

She giggled as he tested the weight of the bag. "You liked the apple and raspberry," she said, "and we both liked the blueberry." This time when he took her hand she had no hesitation in falling into the role they'd led others to believe in. "And the pumpkin and peach preserves. We can have it over ice cream at home, too; not just on bread and pancakes and fish."

Renji's thoughts screeched at her mention of jam laden fish. He glanced back to the teen boys following them, who were either not doing a very good job of hiding their presence or did not care that he knew they were there. Renji decided he'd make them care the first chance he got, especially with school beginning the next week.

Further conversation was drowned out in the burgeoning sounds of the Georgia Satellites singing their signature song about being too _handsy_, which put a bit of a damper on some of the thoughts running through Renji's mind.

Not that he'd take any advantage of his – their – circumstances about the living arrangements at the house he and Orihime shared.

He didn't know whether Orihime thought much about the lyrics to the song blasting from every speaker in the park, but her fingers did tighten in his, a bit of pink touching brighter over her cheeks. It was hard to ignore with a reminder of keeping one's hands to one's self was being driven into their heads in song, even in English.

They found a stand selling ice cream and got double scoop cones, which helped extinguish part of the flaming feeling that made Renji more conspicuous than usual in the Living World. By the time they were almost done eating, the song had turned from abstinence to _Battleship Chains_, and some of the crowd had parted before the stage area to partner up for impromptu dancing.

"I think the pineapple was better than the banana," Orihime said, finishing her ice cream cone as Renji glared at the teen boys still hanging around the hot pretzel stand nearby.

He nodded, crunching through the last of his cone. "Are you ready for the pie auction?" He glanced to the group of older women slowly making their way to the side of the stage. "It'll be starting soon."

She nodded. She was going to speak, but her gaze shifted to where Charlotte had sidled up to the teen boys at the pretzel stand. The blonde girl offered them a plate of something Orihime couldn't distinguish, and with big smiles the boys helped themselves to the plate. A sudden pressure came to Orihime's chest, and she rubbed her fingers there, trying to press against the welling ache.

"Are you all right, Orihime?" Renji moved to block her view of the guys. This time he didn't pretend not to watch her hand at her violet shirt. "Something bothering you?"

Her hand dropped and she coughed a little. "No." She cleared her throat and looked to him. She let her fingers go back as the pressure stubbornly remained. "Just a little, Renji."

He nodded. "You want to go home?" He pulled her nearer, partly to be heard over the music and partly to hide her from any prying eyes. "We don't have to stay if you don't feel like it."

She smiled at his words, his low tone warm on her cheek as he bent to her ear. Whether it was that or something else, she felt the constriction in her chest ease away. "It's okay, Renji," she said, letting her fingers rest at the belt loop of his jeans. "It was just a little twinge, that's all."

He nodded, gaze going from her eyes to her lips as she spoke. "Okay."

It was another half hour, four pieces of pizza, several wads of cotton candy, and a six-pack of donuts later that the concert was over and the stage was cleared of the band and set up for the pie auction. During that time Renji and Orihime had run across Silvi and Delmar a couple times and spent a few minutes at the Pal'O'Mine Stables temporary paddock to watch the injury-challenged riders make their rounds.

Renji left Orihime in line with the other teen girls at the stage where the contestants were awaiting the pie auction. They weren't the only ones waiting.

He waited out the announcements made onstage by Mayes about the time and effort and love that the girls had put into their baked goods, barely hearing her as he watched Orihime stand in the line of contestants. There were fourteen entries with Orihime and Silvi, most in high school.

Renji also noticed that most of the crowd was men, ranging from mid-teen to late twenties, and all had their hands stuck deep in their pockets, postures slightly hunched as if expecting to launch to the stage. An old man was standing at the stage, introducing himself, but Renji missed hearing who he was.

The man pushed his baseball cap back, giving the crowd an aged smile, and pulled the microphone stand closer to him as he gestured a hand to his side at the line of girls holding pie plates or hampers, all smiling.

"Get the bidding goin'!" a man to Renji's side hollered. "Come on, Will! We got pie to eat!"

A cheer roared through the gathered crowd, a deep sound from mostly males.

Renji gritted his teeth, realizing too late the magnitude of the pie event.

On the stage, Will consulted a clipboard in his hand. "First up is Ellie with her walnut praline honey pie!"

A round of whooping went through the crowd.

"What the hell is praline?" Renji muttered beneath his breath, eyes still on Orihime holding her pie on stage.

"Forty!" someone called.

"Forty gets us going," Will said with a smile, pointing to someone in the crowd. "Anyone for forty-five?"

Renji couldn't see who had bid; the crowd was thick and the day getting hotter.

"Forty-five!"

"Forty-five. Do I hear fifty?"

Renji looked back to the stage.

"Fifty-five!" came a man's call.

Orihime smiled at Renji as the bidding continued, wiggling a few fingers in greeting beneath the pie dish. He grinned and waved back.

"Seventy dollars to the man with the red hair!" Will cried.

Renji slowly lowered his hand, looking to where Will onstage was looking back at him. Pointing.

"No," Renji said.

Will was already looking out over the crowd. "Anyone care to top seventy for Miss Ellie's walnut praline honey pie?"

Renji realized his mistake. His attention snapped to Orihime. She looked back at him with clear disappointment and near disbelief. She glanced slowly to Ellie, and then back to Renji.

He shook his head, but it didn't undo the bid.

Onstage, Will was smiling at him, still searching the crowd.

"Seventy-five!" a man from the crowd called out.

Renji sighed, relieved but still aware of the meek look on Orihime's face. Her arms had settled lower, the pie in her hands tipping.

"Don't drop it," he mumbled, pushing his way a few people closer to the stage. He shook his head again at her, and she smiled a little.

"Seventy-five...Seventy-five? Seventy-five once..."

A moment later Will pronounced the pie bought for $75. The next pie and girl were presented and Renji made certain he didn't make any movements that could be mistaken for an interested bid. Silvi was up next and Delmar won it within three bids. Two pies later it was Orihime's turn, and Renji was ready to rush the stage, if need be.

Another figure made her way up to where Renji stood.

"Oh, I see you like walnut and honey," Charlotte said sweetly, pushing her way through the boys and men to where Renji stood. She carried a large platter of assorted baked goods.

He gave her a quick glimpse, watching Orihime step up to Will at the microphone. "Not really."

"No?" Charlotte held the platter closer to him. "Hmm, well, I've got peanut-butter cookies, too."

He shook his head, eyes still on Orihime speaking lowly to Will.

"Chocolate?" Charlotte asked. "I have double chocolate brownies."

"Nope." He watched Will grab the microphone stand and begin to speak.

"Miss Orihime, a new entry this year," Will was saying, "has brought a mock sweet bean paste pie!"

Renji had expected an uncomfortable silence of confusion, but instead a bellow of hoots and loud, appreciative whistles came from the crowd. He looked out over the bidders. Every man and male youth was grinning, waving, money in their tight fists as a chant of _"O-ri-hi-me!"_ began.

"What the hell..." he said before thinking.

"Orihime!" the chant rose. "Orihime!"

Renji looked back to the stage. Orihime was wide-eyed in surprise, her pie clutched closer to her violet shirt, a nervous frozen smile on her lips.

"Seventy bucks!" a man yelled.

The chanting subsided.

"Seventy-five!" cried another.

Renji sent a glance over the crowd, unable to locate either bidder.

"Eighty!"

He looked to the stage. Will was pointing in two directions at the bidders.

Renji's arm shot up. "One hundred!"

Will pointed to him, and then in another direction as someone yelled "One-ten!"

Renji put his hand up and kept it there.

Charlotte smiled at him, taking a spot at his side, letting one hip lean to his. "You better get a cookie while you can," she said with a light giggle. "They're going fast. Dozens already." She held the plate closer to him. "How about molasses and raisin?"

He shook his head, not understanding her persistence. He stepped away so she wasn't touching him. "You're wasting your time. I don't want any."

"Sure you do." She took a step closer, this time without making contact. "Everyone likes cookies. Lots of the guys already had three or four."

He waved his hand so Will looked his way. "One hundred-fifty!" Renji expected that to cut the bidding.

Instead, someone called out, "One-sixty!"

"One-seventy-five!" Renji glanced to the other side of the crowd as a few people moved.

The other bidder looked to him. It was the tallest of the four teens who'd been following them, from the pretzel stand. The dark-haired teen was still with his jersey-clad friends, and they were all nearly huddled, pooling their money between them.

"Dammit," Renji growled, dodging Charlotte as she stepped closer.

"Try this one," she said, holding a cookie out to him. "It's made with love."

He glanced at her sharply, glimpsing the cookie she held in her palm. One finger was wrapped with a pink adhesive bandage. "Find someone else."

She sighed. "But these are –"

"I don't want any," he said, looking back to the stage, seeing Orihime watching them. "Beat it, Charlotte."

"Two-hundred!"

Charlotte smiled at him, and this time there was something conspiratorial in her manner. "You can't beat them, Renji."

He glanced to the tall youth with his friends in the crowd. He didn't look back at her, instead waving his arm to Will. "Two-twenty-five!"

On stage, Orihime had watched the small group of teen boys bidding against Renji, but it was the blonde girl with the pink highlights that worried her most. She wasn't sure what Charlotte was doing, but she did not like it. She could tell by Renji's posture he was trying to elude whatever conversation the blonde girl was making.

"Pretty _and_ nice," Silvi had told her in line as they readied for the auction a few moments ago. "That's what Charlotte Myers has going for her. If she was just pretty but _not_ nice, okay; but pretty _and_ nice? None of us other girls here have a chance against _that_."

And Renji had bid for the first pie. Orihime didn't understand that. _Maybe he's really hungry,_ she had thought in consolation at first, but as the auction continued, she realized it was a mistake.

"Two-forty?" Will was asking as a bid of $235 came in.

Orihime smiled hopefully at Renji.

He waved his hand.

"Two-forty!" Will called.

For a moment there was silence among the bidders and onlookers. The collection of teen boys had re-huddled, counting their money, shaking their heads.

Will gave Orihime a smile. "Anyone?" he called.

Renji looked out over the crowd, daring anyone to bid again, ignoring Charlotte still beside him.

"Sold!" Will sang out. "Sold to the red-haired fella for two-forty!"

Renji started through the crowd of people, hearing Charlotte say something, but not pausing to listen. By the time he got to the front of the stage the crowd was murmuring about the amount for the pie, some chuckling, others making other comments about the curvy girl holding the mock bean paste pie onstage.

Renji climbed onto the platform where Will and Orihime were still standing with the other contestants awaiting to take their turn. He looked from Orihime to Will.

"Uh, you gotta pay the ladies at the table, fella," Will said as Renji reached into his pocket for his wallet. "You bought yourself one costly dessert."

Renji's scowl turned into a grin at Orihime's smile. "It's worth it. Come on, Orihime."

Will put a hand over the microphone, voice lowering. "Y'know, it's likely a new record for the auction, as well as the winner, so you folks will have to come back for a spell."

Renji nodded and took Orihime's arm and ushered her down the short stairs from the stage.

"I'm sorry it cost so much," she said as they went to the table. "I didn't think it would, Renji."

"Don't worry about it." He kissed her cheek lightly as they stopped at the grass skirted table where Mayes was chuckling with the other older women. "That was some popular pie, Orihime. Good thing you didn't smile at those idiots."

She giggled, looking to Mayes.

The widow pushed an index card to Renji. "Long way to go for a homemade pie, young man."

He nodded.

Moments later Renji and Orihime were heading back into the thick of the crowd, the pie in her arms, and with sounds of the next auctioned pie blaring over the loudspeakers. She sighed, content that he'd bought the pie, but still with a nagging feeling at the edge of her nerves.

"Can we just go home, Renji?" she asked after a moment of maneuvering through the crowd.

His attention immediately went to her chest. "Are you feeling bad?"

"No," she said, a little embarrassed at his attention, lifting the pie higher before her. "But I've had enough outdoors for now. If you have, I mean, if you don't mind. We can stay, if –"

"I'm ready to go," he said, letting his arm snug around her shoulders and steer her toward the park side where the cars were parked. "We'll pick up some dinner and go home."

She smiled, watching him grin wider.

They found a bucket of fried chicken and filled dumplings and eggrolls from a couple vendors on their way out of the park and headed to the truck in the lot, waving a goodbye to where Silvi and Delmar were eating at one of the picnic tables under the elm trees. Sounds of the auction continued, but none of the prices matched what Renji had paid.

They crossed the cable and post barriers roping off the parking lot and found the truck. Renji stowed their dinner and purchases in the cab as Orihime waited, still holding the pie at the open passenger door.

"Hey!" a male voice called out across the lot.

Renji and Orihime turned to see the tallest teen of the youths from the competitive bidders at the auction. He was the dark-haired teen, with a lanky build beneath his red and white jersey. He glanced from Orihime to Renji, crossing the lot quickly.

"I figure I bid enough for a consolation piece of that pie, sweetheart," he said, a threatening grin on his face at her. He held up a buck knife in one hand. "I'll take that now."

Renji kept his eyes on the teen, one hand going to Orihime's shoulder. "Get in the truck and keep the doors locked."

She nodded, wordlessly climbing into the truck. Renji shut the door, hearing her roll up the windows and lock the door as he turned to the teen.

"Leave her alone," he said. "Get lost."

The teen shook his head, looking to the truck.

Orihime had set the pie on the seat and was now looking through the rear window at them.

A near rabid grin spread his face. "Step aside, import. You can take her home when I'm done!"

Renji met him a few cars away where the vehicles were sparsely parked. "I said leave her alone," he warned, watching the knife in the teen's hand.

Without another word, the boy lunged at him with a quick slash. The knife edge slit Renji's t-shirt, missing his abdomen. Renji cuffed the teen under the chin, a jolting motion that snapped his head back. The knife flashed again, this time cutting through Renji's sleeve and barely grazing his shoulder.

Renji sent a low kick to the teen's stomach and he dropped the knife, which slid under a car.

The teen remained hunkered over, watching Renji, and then spit a mouthful of blood against a car tire.

"Walk away," Renji told him. "You so much as speak to her at school and I'll personally take you to hell," he promised, grinning as the teen straightened. "And I know how to get to hell, shithead."

The teen backed up a few feet. "You think so?" He laughed, a chilling sound in the late afternoon that seemed a contrast to the merry sounds of music and the auction coming from the park. He grabbed one of the wooden posts in a cement bucket, easily snapping it off with a kick to the base. He pulled it free of the wire cable and brandished the wood at Renji, a new vigor seeming to overtake him.

Renji's eyes narrowed on him, something about the teen and his uncanny strength out of place. Behind him he heard the truck door open. "Stay there, Orihime!"

The teen brought the post across, missing Renji as the shinigami stepped back, and followed through with a backhand swipe that caught Renji on the ribs. Renji stifled a gasp and sent a hard kick to his chest.

Instead of going down, the teen coughed and stepped back, his hand tightening around the post.

Renji grabbed the loose cable at the other post and ripped it free of the metal ring. He wound the end around his hand, watching the teen circle to his side. "All this for a piece of pie?"

The teen laughed, throwing back his head as a fiery glint came to his eye. "Why, yes, import. This and more!"

He swung the post, cursing as Renji evaded, and rebounded with another quick blow.

Renji reeled back the cable and let it hurl toward the teen, catching him at one hip. The boy howled in pain as his jeans ripped, replying with a crash of the post that tore off a side-view mirror of the nearest car. Renji let the cable snake out whip-like, hitting the teen at his knees and cutting his feet out from beneath him.

The teen went down in a heap on the pavement, head bouncing off the painted white lines.

Renji stepped to one side, waiting for him to rise, but the teen stayed down. Renji pulled the length of cable closer, alert for any sign of life, but the teen didn't move. From his temple, a small trickle of blood oozed onto the pavement.

"Dammit," Renji muttered, nearing the boy. He paused, kneeling to see the damage at the teen's dark hair.

"Renji?"

He looked over to see Orihime standing at the back of the truck, minus the pie.

"He's all right," he called back, hoping it was true. He pushed the teen's head to the side. "Stay there."

"I will."

The blood was no more than a scrape on the boy's temple, not serious, but hopefully a reminder. Renji put a finger to the teen's neck, relieved yet still irritated there was a pulse.

He stood and looked to the fence post near the teen's relaxed hand. It was a four-by-four, not something easily snapped by a full-grown man, no less a teenage boy.

He coiled the cable into several loops as he started across the parking lot to Orihime still at the truck. His ribs were beginning to ache, the tight swelling there starting to burn.

"Are you okay, Renji?" She put a hand to his chest, then his shoulder where the slit had opened, showing a bit of red below. "Oh! He cut you?"

"What the hell is wrong with the guys here?" He tossed the cable into the truck bed and opened her door. "Let's go home, Orihime."

"Hai, uh, yes." She climbed in, pausing to move the pie a bit more and rearrange some of their dinner take-out containers that had shifted during her movements in the truck from earlier.

Despite his injuries, Renji found himself grinning at the denim backside of Orihime as she hovered over the seat, moving food items.

An arc of pain at his side made his grin subside. "Damn sore loser," he said as she settled at the seat. This time, he noticed, she was in the middle and the dinner and pie were at the door side. He grinned again. "If you have any trouble with that guy at school, or anyone else, you tell me, Orihime."

She nodded, smiling as he shut the door.

Renji got in the driver's side, grunting from his injuries as he sat behind the steering wheel and started the engine. He looked down at her, liking that her timidity was disappearing. "Do you know him?"

"Silvi said his name is Dan, but she was just naming off some of the people we'd see at school." She looked to the slit in his shirt on the sleeve nearest her, some of the smile fading from her lips. "I'm sorry you got hurt, Renji."

"Don't worry about it."

She leaned up and kissed his cheek, blushing less than at other times.

Renji liked the scent of peaches hanging around her as she moved. He backed the truck out of the parking space and they left the lot.

Minutes after they were gone, Charlotte Myers' shadow fell across the fallen form of Dan on the pavement. She gave him a disinterested look, rubbing her fingers together where she'd cut herself during baking cookies the day before. Her eyes went to the broken post.

She kicked Dan's shoe. "Get up."


	14. A Bird in the Hand

The drive home was short, but felt longer than Renji knew it really was with his new injuries. By the time they did reach the modest farmhouse, his ribs were burning and tight, and the blood from his shoulder had seeped into the black t-shirt.

Orihime fussed about it, but Renji waved off her concern.

"It's okay," he insisted as he checked her bedroom upstairs when they got home. He glanced around. Nothing was out of place, no unusual smells. He thought back on Reese. There was something about the handy man that still didn't sit right with him. He looked to Orihime standing with her hands clasped before her at the nightstand. "Really," he said. He put a hand testily to his side, sending another screaming pain through him. He gritted his teeth. "No problem."

She sighed. "Okay. But I would like to try." Her voice dropped as she said it, but she tried to smile. "It would be good. If it's a minor injury, then it wouldn't set back any protocol to heal it. Right?"

He frowned despite her smile. "I guess not, but I think I'll be all right."

"Okay."

"But I'll let you know," he added as he passed her as he went to the hall. He paused, for a moment wondering how he was going to let her enroll in school where there may be dozens of _Dans_ roaming the halls. Inside his shirt he felt a small trail of blood run down his chest. He headed out the doorway. "I'll change and we'll have dinner and pie."

"Yes! I'll change clothes and be right down."

He heard the door shut behind him to her room, Orihime already humming some American tune she'd heard on the radio. He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. Under most circumstances he would have walked off her suggestion at healing for such a minor injury, which he was certain it was, but an excuse to have Orihime nearer than necessary was sounding good to him.

He pulled off his shirt and looked in the mirror over the sink. Hell, he thought, maybe she was right.

Staring back at him was a small slit in the skin at his shoulder that had stretched wider from use. The cut stung, but it was the spreading bruise and welt at his lower ribs that was angrier. He mumbled as he put a few fingers to the warm injury, feeling the knot forming beneath the skin.

He found a rose-colored washcloth from the linen shelf near the tub and ran it under cold water at the sink. He washed off his shoulder, which had nearly stopped bleeding, and then wiped at the tender area of his ribs.

He held the cloth there and let the cool water take some of the heat down. He heard a soft tap at the door, and glanced to it in the mirror.

"Come in," he called.

Orihime hesitated, and then opened the door a few inches. "Are you okay, Renji?"

"Yup." He grinned as she remained hidden behind the door. "Come on in, Orihime. I'm not naked."

She came in, blushing at his choice of words, and then her eyes went to the cut at his shoulder as she met him at the sink. "Oh, at least it stopped bleeding. Bandages." She opened the mirror's shelf over the sink, nearly swiping his chin with the door as she did. She pulled out a box and held it up. "Do you think these will be enough?"

"Yeah, they're –"

"Oh, not _that_, too," she said as her eyes went to his side. She looked to him mournfully. "Oh, Renji. That's bad."

"Nah, it's not too bad," he said, but when her fingers felt carefully around the widening blue area beneath the skin of his lower tattoos, he didn't stop her. She bit her lip, her fingertips feeling the contrast of cooler skin where he'd held the washcloth to the warmer damaged area at his swollen ribs.

She looked to him, this time her large eyes holding a different pout. "Let me try to heal you. Please, Renji?"

For a moment he wanted to say yes. After all, it was a small injury compared to what she'd healed in the past, and what he'd _had_ in past battles. And the appeal of those large violet-gray eyes and the persuasive pout at her lips – but he shook his head. "I'm fine. Go down and grab a few plates and we'll eat."

This time her palm rested at his side. "Are you sure?" She looked to his side beneath her hand, and despite the pink wanting to overtake her cheeks, didn't move her fingers away. "It won't take much, Renji."

He shook his head. "I'm fine. I'll be right down."

"...Okay." She looked to his shoulder, and then took a few of the larger self-adhesive bandages from the box. "But let me do this."

He nodded, and turned to lean against the sink cabinet. "All right, you can do that."

She smiled, stripping off the paper to the first bandage. She peeled the tab back from the one adhesive side and looked to his shoulder. "Thanks for buying the pie."

He watched her fingers gently pull the sides of his slit skin together and hold the edges close as she taped it shut with the bandage. "You really had those guys bidding. I didn't think anyone here would know what sweet bean paste was."

She giggled and readied another bandage, and then some of the smile left her eyes. "Did you want that other pie?" The doubt seeped into her voice as she studied his eyes. "Did you want the walnut praline honey pie Ellie made?"

"Hell, no," he said as she secured the second bandage across the cut. "I was waving at you, not bidding. I didn't mean to bid on that other entry, Orihime."

She smiled more. "Okay." She took the washcloth from the sink and squeezed the water out. "Charlotte was talking to you."

He nodded. "She was passing out cookies or something."

"Oh." She dabbed at the faint red stains at his shoulder.

"To everyone."

"Oh. Okay."

He watched her lower lip as she bit it, wishing she'd say out loud what thoughts were making her so concerned.

She set the cloth in the sink, and for a movement looked at his back in the mirror, her eyes tracing the black marks across his back. She looked up at him slowly.

"You can ask me anything," he said, watching the doubt flit through her face. He took her hand, feeling her damp fingers soft in his. "Anything on your mind."

She nodded, gathering her scattered courage. "Renji, if we weren't here," she said slowly, thinking through the words she didn't want to use, "if you ... well, if you didn't _have_ to be here, under orders," she added, not really wanting to hear one possible answer, "would you...?"

"I want to be here," he said without prompting, forgetting his injured side for the moment at the timid look in her face. "If Soul Society had sent anyone else – any guy – I wouldn't like it." Despite what he'd told Captain Unohana, he had to remind himself. "Yeah, at first I thought a woman would be better for this, for you, for this assignment." He wanted to pull her closer, but she was already flushed pink and there was something about being half-naked with her in the bathroom that he was sure already smacked in the face of accepted Society policies.

So he didn't.

He also wished he'd brought a clean shirt.

Her fingers gripped his tighter, oblivious to his thoughts. "Will you come see me?" Slight apprehension welled in her eyes, and she added hastily, "I mean, when this is all over, and I go back home, and you go back to Soul Society." She took a deep breath, eyes locked on his. "Will you visit me, Renji? Even when you don't have to?"

This time the sore ribs and lack of shirt didn't get in his way. He gathered her closer, pulling her into a tight embrace that she willingly allowed, her arms encircling him without pause.

"What the hell kind of question is that, Orihime?" he asked, feeling her smile against his chest. He kissed her hair, the fragrance soft and beckoning. She looked up, letting her chin rest at his collarbone, her hands pressed into his back.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Yes." He kissed her eye as she closed it. "If you let me, I'll visit you in Karakura Town."

She smiled wider, both eyes open now, her arms around him tightening, until she realized how content she was, and that her elbow was digging into his injured side. "Oh, I'm sorry, Renji."

She eased back some, as much as he let her, which wasn't much.

He kissed her lips quickly. "Are you hungry?"

She nodded. "I'm starved."

He straightened from leaning on the sink vanity and let her go. She stood on tiptoe to kiss him briefly, this time letting her fingers rest at his jaw for a moment.

"I'll get supper ready."

Within moments Renji had found a clean shirt and Orihime was waiting in the warm kitchen with plates and the take-out on the table. Renji felt the heat from the day hit him as he descended the staircase and looked to Orihime standing at the table. Her ponytail was a bit wilted, and the kitchen fan was doing a failing job at cooling anything down.

He nodded to the back door. "Let's eat outside. It'll be cooler. We'll come back in for pie later."

"Ooh, that's a good idea." She hurriedly grabbed the pitcher of lemonade from the refrigerator and a few glasses as Renji gathered the chicken and other take-out containers. They moved to the back porch where the sun was shaded by the house.

The grass was mowed, the small garden patch nearly weedless, and the shade on the porch was perfectly cool. The smell of the cut grass was inviting, easing Renji's guilt at yard work, and the waning garden was now home to some of the local birds picking at plants that had gone to seed.

Orihime arranged the food containers between them as Renji sat on the wooden porch that was more deck-like than simple porch, and poured them both glasses of lemonade. Dusk was coming early to their side of the road as the house was overlooked by the nearest mountain to one side, but the mosquitoes weren't yet out. From town, sounds of the last band, George Thorogood and the Delaware Destroyers, were belting out their most popular hits, and the voices echoed through the Hollow.

Orihime smiled to herself as Renji heaped his plate with chicken and food from the side dishes. She knew he could just be being nice in saying he'd visit her in Karakura Town – she knew he was genuinely a thoughtful person, most of the time – but she wanted to believe it was true.

Please let it be true, she thought to herself, watching him over her glass as she took a long drink of lemonade. For a moment, a cough wanted to surface in her chest, but the lemonade won out and she resisted the outburst.

"You sure you want to go to school here?" he asked, returning her attention. "You don't have to, you know."

She nodded. They had moved the food containers back and were now sitting side by side, looking out over the backyard. "I have another set of vials to go through after this set, and I don't want to fall behind in schoolwork."

He nodded. "There may be more vials after that set," he said, watching her as she tried to somewhat delicately take a bite of the chicken drumstick. He grinned at the effort.

"How many in all?" She wiped her mouth, wishing eating chicken weren't so unladylike.

"Only Captain Unohana or Urahara knows that. Maybe Captain Kurotsuchi," he said as an afterthought.

She nodded slowly.

He was about to speak again, when his severely damaged Soul Society communicator made a weak sound from his back pocket. He stood up and pulled it out. "I thought this thing was dead," he muttered, glancing at the screen.

She watched as he squinted at the device.

"Isane," he said. He carefully pressed a button, stepping away from the porch.

Orihime set her chicken down and wiped her fingers with a napkin.

For a long moment Renji glared at the device, carefully pressing buttons in hopes that the communicator would make one last contact. Finally Isane's voice weakly broke through.

He grinned in triumph and said into it, "Hello?"

Orihime turned back to her lemonade as he stepped a few more feet away, handling the fragile device with mother-like care.

Renji could barely hear Isane and moving halfway across the yard didn't help reception any. He caught a handful of words, something about school and paperwork, and a few other words.

His attention on the fragments of conversation was snapped when a thud sounded from the house. He looked back there to see Orihime standing at the porch, looking curiously at the window that was over the sink, and then to the ground below it. He made a concerted effort at following Isane's mostly missing conversation, watching first Orihime's turquoise shorts as she knelt to where the house met the ground, and then to her ponytail falling over her shoulder. In the late day, her hair shown a burnt copper color, invitingly warm, and soft, he knew.

He watched as she picked up something from the ground and then stood, looking at what was in her hand. She smiled a little, and then concern reached her eyes, and then something akin to fear.

"Renji!" she cried, staring with alarm at her hand. "Renji!"

He stuck the phone in his back pocket and rushed to her side, ready to pluck whatever it was from her.

"Take it!" she urged, holding her hand to him. Tears filled her eyes, her voice nearly a sob.

He looked to her hand. In it was a small finch, with Orihime's fingers clasped around it.

He glanced to the window over the sink inside. "It must have tried to fly through and –"

"Take it, please," she said desperately, now holding it to him closer.

He frowned at her, and then moved to take it from her. "Okay. Let go, Orihime."

"I, I... I can't!" she sobbed. She pushed her hand holding the bird to him.

The bird's beak was open, gasping, a strangled sound coming from it. Orihime's fingers were clenched fiercely around it, forcing the breath out of it.

And, to Renji's horror, tightening more.

"Let it go," he said, closing his hand around hers cautiously.

She shook her head furiously. "I can't, Renji. I can't!"

He wedged his fingers between hers around the bird and slowly took her wrist in his other hand. "It's okay," he said lowly to her, watching her face contort with panic.

"I can't let go. My hand won't open." She sniffed as the bird's beak yawned wider, a painful high-pitched screech coming from it as Orihime's hand crushed the life from it. "Ahh, no! Make it, make it stop, Renji." She sobbed, horrified now that she knew she was helpless. "Make me stop it..."

Renji pulled her back to him and braced one arm along hers, slowly pulling at her fingers with his other hand. Her fingers were vice-like around the small bird, whitening with pressure, a cracking sound coming from the bird's ribcage as its skin separated and innards were pushed out. It made final convulsion as its body began collapsing from Orihime's clutch.

"No," she sobbed, shaking her hand in Renji's grasp and he tried to loosen her fingers without hurting her. She pushed her arm from her and turned to bury her face in his shirt.

Renji lowered her hand with the bird to their side, keeping Orihime's face against his chest. He didn't understand. "Just let go," he kept telling her, but when she said she couldn't, he just said, "It's okay. It's okay, Orihime."

"I didn't mean it," she said. Her voice was muffled against him. "I can't let go..."

He looked down at the bird in her hand, in his hand. He could make her let go of it, he knew, but he'd have to break her fingers to do it. Her grip was tight, tighter than he thought she was capable of, and even _she_ couldn't release the dying bird.

He could feel the death throes in the small, feathered object, feeling it fight for life within Orihime's death-grip. He wrapped his other arm around her snugger, speaking into her hair as she sobbed.

"It's okay. Just a bird."

"But I —"

"It doesn't matter," he said.

She nodded against him.

He waited until the bird stopped moving, and was about to speak when Orihime's hand opened and the bird dropped out. She shook her head, and he turned her to the house before she could look at it.

"But I –"

"It doesn't matter," he said quickly as they got to the kitchen sink.

"Oh, the dinner..."

"Don't worry about it." Renji took her to the bathroom sink past the living room. Shadows were growing long in the house, the evening settling in as sounds of the concert from town drifted in.

"Don't think about it," he said as he rinsed her hand in the sink. He left the light off and everything in the small room was pale shades of gray from the low light. He inspected her hand. The palm was red from her tight clutch, a few fingernails jagged from where she'd tried to release the bird, peeling at the nails with her other hand.

She sobbed again as she looked at her hand. "Why couldn't I let go, Renji?"

"It doesn't matter," he said tightly. He had thoughts on it, but wasn't about to voice any of them. He looked to her lavender tank top. He could see no difference in her normal, full bosom. Even if he had, he could blame it on the dim light.

He dried her hand off with the towel on the chrome ring at the side of the mirror. "You're okay now. Don't think about it, Orihime... Do you feel okay?"

She looked to him shakily, her hand trembling in his. "I don't know."

He pushed the few stray stands of hair from her face, hating the fear in her face. "It's okay."

"I'm a monster." She nodded, tears forming anew. "I'm a monster, Renji. Worse than –"

"No. You're not." He kissed her forehead and then led her out of the bathroom. "How about we find something on TV?"

"But –"

"Don't worry about anything right now, Orihime."

They went into the darkening living room and he switched on the TV, not caring what program was on. He sat down at the couch and pulled Orihime with him. "Just don't think for a while. I'll take care of everything, all right?"

She folded into the cushion beside him, shaking her head.

He sat back and put one arm around her shoulders, biting back the sharp pain shooting through his opposite side at the movement. "We'll get it all sorted out in the morning. Don't worry."

She let herself sink to his side, her head leaned to his chest, pulling her knees closer as she looked to the TV. On it a dressage horse show was beginning.

"Hey, kinda nice, huh?" Renji said, looking for something to take her mind off the bizarre demonstration with the bird. "Good-looking horses."

She nodded, a sudden weariness overtaking her. "I don't know why I'm so tired. Oh, Renji, I forgot to bring in the dinner stuff."

"Don't worry about it."

"But the...animals. Raccoons and other little animals will get it."

He saw her eyelashes flutter as she tried to focus on the TV. Her voice was slowing, becoming fainter. "It's all right, Orihime," he said, rubbing her arm as her fingers tightened on the t-shirt at his chest. "I'll take care of it."

She sighed, her knees know resting on his leg, her head planted below his shoulder.

After a moment Renji saw her eyes close and her breathing came rhythmically.

He hoped she couldn't hear or feel his heartbeat. Not much truly scared him, at least, not much that wasn't armed, but seeing Orihime squeeze the life out of the helpless bird shocked him. It wasn't like her and he knew it wasn't.

Not that it was difficult to snuff out a bird's life. Even Momo could do it. Anyone could do it.

But, not many women Renji knew _would_ do it, and of the names on that last, Orihime Inoue was the _last_ one who would do it.

It wasn't like her, and that was what scared him most.

Actually, he thought, leaning back more into the couch in the dark room as he watched the horses on TV move through their precise paces, the fact that Orihime could not stop herself from killing the bird was most frightening.

He looked to her knees bent over his thigh, and then down at the curves her hip and shirt made as she leaned against him.

It was definitely something Soul Society would expect to be in his report.


	15. Paler Shade

Reese sat slumped against the kitchen table, nervously watching Morgan under Szayel's possession as the large convict inspected Nyles' face that morning. It would have been a comical or threatening sight, knowing they were both inmates, with Morgan's hulk hovering over the slighter man, intent on his face.

But it wasn't funny. Reese knew better than to smirk at the sight. Szayel was no one to toy with.

"Hmm, I think it's coming along adequately," Szayel said through Morgan deep voice. His big hands turned Nyles' bruised and tender face to angle up to the overhead light. "Once the color has faded, I think we'll be ready to give you a test audition."

As Morgan stepped away from the seated, frightened man, Reese got a better look at Nyles.

His face looked different. Szayel had altered the bone structure of Nyles' face with Morgan's brute strength. The large inmate's hands had crushed and shifted the facial bones into a more passable semblance of Shuuhei Hisagi. It wasn't a painless procedure, but that hadn't stopped Szayel from doing it. There had been a few times that Nyles' cries had irritated the Espada into dosing him – usually with whiskey – and then proceeding once the patient was unconscious.

Nyles was lucky for those blackouts and even the following hangovers that distracted him from his paining face and screaming nerve endings. Through the black, blue, and yellow of bruising, the visage of Hisagi was taking shape on the inmate.

"I seen him around," Reese said, his nicotine deprivation speaking. He raised a shaky finger to point at Nyles. "He been around on a motorcycle."

Morgan turned on the handyman, the movement somewhat prissified with Szayel in control. "He's been here?" His eyes narrowed. "You said you hadn't seen him. Have you?"

"No. I mean, I mean...not here. Not this house." Reese lost his protective resolve. "But he took the girl for a..." He shook his head, leaning back as Szayel made Morgan step closer to him.

"For a what?" Szayel asked.

Reese shook his head, swallowing forcefully.

"Tell me, you single-celled fool. What were you going to say?"

Nyles blubbered something incoherent, squinting at Szayel through swollen eyes. His lips hung open, still thick with healing.

Reese threw the damaged inmate a glare, but it eluded him. Nyles looked up at Morgan's form. "Arride."

"A ride?" Morgan smiled effeminately. "Oh, yes, that would make sense." He turned to Reese, dropping to a glare. "Is that what you meant?"

Reese nearly wet himself trying not to answer.

Szayel nodded, thinking furiously along a new line. "A ride. On a motorcycle." He looked to Reese. "Is he coming back again?"

Reese shook his head. "Don't know."

"Go find out."

Reese rattled a breath. "How?"

"Go hang out over there, with the girl and that shim – red-haired idiot. Renji. Hang around and discover if Hisagi is coming back."

"I can't do that. I don't...hang out over there." Reese cleared his throat and then hacked a cough. "It ain't like that."

"You're the handyman. Go be handy and find out what I want to know."

Reese weighed the threats. "I ain't got no reason to be handy. I can't just loiter 'round there. Renji will run me off."

Szayel watched him steadily. From the barn, a rooster crowed at the dawning of the day. He slid a glance back to Nyles, who still leaned weakly on the table, trying to watch them through half-open eyes.

"I have an errand for you," Szayel told Reese, smiling at him. "Now, make a list..."

* * *

Orihime awoke when the rooster crowed the third time that morning. The sound seemed far away, mostly because she had one ear buried against Renji's arm. She didn't realize it at first, simply comfortable against his side at his shoulder, resting her head at his bicep as his arm crooked over her waist. Her eyes remained shut as she snuggled closer, content and warm. Maybe a little too warm for the early day.

She opened her eyes to see his arm crossed over her chest, his hand at her opposite hip, thumb under her lavender tank top's hem at her waist. For a moment she just stared at it, her mind not putting together the logic of where everything else was, thoughts drifting to if his hand would move, and if so, where to. Her cheek rested at the lower part of the tattoos crossing his arm, and that was what made her flinch.

Renji didn't let her sit up when she startled, letting his arm lock over her as both her arms encircled his tighter. She didn't look up at him. She knew by the way his hand glided over the curve of her shorts, letting his thumb rub against her skin that he was probably awake. She smiled a little, gazing at the way the black tattoos twisted at his arm.

She'd had the oddest dreams, vivid dreams of something in her hands that she couldn't see, that she was squeezing. She didn't know what it was, but it hurt her fingers as she crushed it. And the oddest part that she recalled from the dream was that she kept hearing a small voice inside her head that told her fingers to do it. She blamed it on the long hot day in the sun at the picnic. The sun could do strange things to a person.

She finally sighed and moved a little, and then sat up slowly even though she didn't really want to move away; but she didn't want Renji to think she was, well, too something _else_, either.

She sat up and looked to him, still with her shoulder leaning against him, not wanting to leave. He was still slumped to his opposite side with one elbow on the couch armrest, palm supporting his head as he watched her wake up.

She scooted up more as he pulled her closer. "I, I guess I fell asleep," she said, blushing pink in the morning's heat. The sun from the window was shining directly in on them, making Renji's hair an even more flaming crimson. "I didn't mean to crowd you."

"Hey, crowd me all you want, Orihime." He grinned, curling her closer, his hand pressing along the back of her tank top. "That's all right. The horse show ran late," he said as she turned a peachier color of blush. "It was probably cooler down here than upstairs. You know, heat rising and all."

Orihime knew, but she didn't think it could be much hotter upstairs than how she felt at that moment. She smiled, feeling his hand under her ponytail at her back. She sighed deeply and then coughed a little. She curled over her chest, putting a hand to her throat, feeling slightly nauseated.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded, swinging her legs over the side of the couch to the floor. He let her change positions, arm moving at a less opportunistic angle as she shifted. She took a slow breath, and then made herself stand up. "I'll change and get us some breakfast."

"Sounds good." That's what he said, but he thought staying on the couch a little longer sounded better. He let her go, watching her send a shy glance back at him as she went to the staircase and up it.

He stood up, listening to the measured, even creaks of the steps as she climbed. She hadn't mentioned the bird. And if she didn't remember it, he sure wasn't going to remind her. He heard her in her bedroom, and then the water run in the bathroom.

He washed up quickly in the main floor bathroom and headed up to his own room and found his lone set of clean clothes. He shook his head, dressing hastily, mind racing along the events from the night before. He had just pulled up his hair into a rather humid ponytail than the sounds of a car pulling into the driveway were heard, and then three doors slammed shut.

Barely had Renji got to the front door, the katana in one hand out of sight by the lamp stand at the doorframe, than voices were heard. He opened the solid door, eyeing the police car in the drive. One officer leaned against the car's front fender, mirrored glasses hiding his eyes, arms crossed in a no-nonsense posture as he waited for the two teens loitering near one of the car's rear doors to collect themselves.

Renji leaned the sword to the wall out of sight, watching Charlotte and Dan look awkwardly to him, both uneasy. He opened the screen door and stood just outside it.

He turned as Orihime came out behind him, her hands touching lightly at his back. She peeked past him, looking fresh and perky after what Renji figured would have been a troublesome night.

"That's Charlotte. Oh," she said, one hand pulling slightly at the hem of his t-shirt, "and that boy from the parking lot."

Dan was limping up the short path to the house, a sheepish look on his face. Charlotte was at his side, but not for support. The policeman was still at the car, sourly watching them.

Renji let one arm cross to the other doorframe, his pointed stare on Dan as the two teens approached.

"Oh...hey," Charlotte said meekly, smiling more when she saw Orihime behind Renji.

"Hi," Orihime said, letting a few fingers wave over Renji's arm.

Renji's stare stayed on Dan.

Charlotte and Dan stopped at the edge of the porch running the length of the house. Dan gave a weak smile. His cheek was scraped from the pavement and bruising had invaded one eye. He had a slight rattle when he breathed, and favored the one hip even when standing still.

Renji's attention went to the police officer, who gave him a single nod. Renji looked back to the teens.

"Uh, I just wanted to say sorry about any confusion yesterday," Charlotte said. She smiled more. "I mean, I think some of my generosity got the better of me, and...and..." She gave Renji a guilty look. "Well, Dan has something to say, too."

Dan nodded, clearing his throat. "Yeah."

"Oh, it's okay," Orihime said, stepping to Renji's side as he lowered his arm some.

"You did really well," Charlotte said brightly. "That's a new record for the pie auction. The newspaper will want your picture for the story."

Orihime looked up at Renji. He grinned at her, letting his arm settle around her shoulders.

"Is that why you're here?" he asked. "Are you taking a photo?"

Dan shook his head. "No. Just wanted to say sorry." He sighed. "I don't remember much of yesterday, truthfully; I think I got hold of some bad cider. But I'm sorry if I said anything out of line." His gaze went to Renji. "'Cause I think you're pretty pissed off."

Renji nodded, estimating the boy's sincerity. "What's the cop here for?"

Charlotte giggled a little. Dan shot her a look.

"That's my pop," he said. "He asked who roughed me up, and I reckon I told him the truth. I don't really remember much, like I said. So he said an apology was due and brought me here to make the peace 'fore school starts up."

Renji wanted to chuckle, but didn't. He nodded. "Yeah, we're square. Just leave Orihime alone at school."

"Yeah, sorry about...whatever I said," he told Orihime, the eye on his bruised side twitching a bit as his gaze pushed on an irritated nerve. He looked back to Renji. "So are we good now?"

Renji nodded. "Yup."

Charlotte heaved a sigh, sticking her hands in her back shorts pockets, blowing the stray strand of pink hair from her face. "You all registered?" she asked Orihime. "Do you have all your classes spoken for?"

Orihime felt Renji's hand tighten at her shoulder. She shook her head. "Almost."

"Good." Charlotte nudged Dan with an elbow. "I guess we should go. Let them start their day."

Dan nodded. "Yeah. So, see ya."

Renji and Orihime watched the two walk back to the squad car. Dan's dad nodded again to Renji and Orihime, face still expressionless. Renji leaned to Orihime's ear. "See how much oatmeal we've got in the house."

She nodded, smiling at the faint touch of his lips to her ear. "All right."

When she'd left to the kitchen, Renji watched the squad car leave down the drive. It turned onto the road, and beyond that, he could see Reese standing at the edge of Mayes' driveway. For a long moment the handyman returned Renji's stare. From behind the man came the widow, walking slowly, a letter in her hand. She looked up, saw Renji and waved.

He waved back.

Reese waved at Renji.

"Not you, dammit," Renji muttered.

The widow caught up to where Reese stood and opened the mailbox. Reese flinched, obviously not having heard her approach. Even from his distance, Renji could see the woman give the handyman a suspicious look. She then planted both hands on her apronned hips and began a list of chores for him to do.

Renji turned and went into the house.

Orihime had taken inventory of the oatmeal stash and was still crouched at a lower cupboard in the kitchen, pulling out Isane's backup supply.

"...five, six...seven..." she counted, ponytail falling to one side as she tilted her head to see in the back behind the packets of ramen.

For a minute he stopped near the table, letting the sunlight give him a better view of the yellow tank top at her back. The material lay smoothly, without indentation, pulled pleasingly tight at all the right spots over her back. He saw no indication of anything amiss. Everything about Orihime looked fine to him.

Nothing to report, he told himself as he stepped closer and squatted beside her.

"How about we go out for breakfast this morning?" he said, letting one hand go to her back, not bracing, but not quite passing on the moment to take a tangible examination.

"Oh? Do you want to? We have enough oatmeal." She smiled and hooked one arm around her bent knees. "Or I could make us something else, Renji. It doesn't have to be oatmeal."

"I need to pick up some more clothes in town, maybe even head over to the next town. Do you need anything for school?"

"Oh, I didn't think of that." She frowned into the cupboard.

Renji felt along her back, a movement that was supposed to detect any change, but for a moment he concentrated only on the delicate spine beneath his hand. He let one knee drop so he could bend closer, watching her face to see if she was hiding any tenderness under his palm.

But she was still smiling, blushing a little.

"Let's go. We'll find breakfast and check out the stores."

"Okay."

There was a thud of something hitting the front screen door. Renji stood, pulling Orihime with him.

"Stay here," he told her.

She nodded.

This time when Renji got to the door, he didn't reach for the sword to the side. Down the driveway pedaled a young boy on a bike, a newspaper bag hanging from his side. Renji stepped out onto the porch and picked up the rolled paper that was starting to unroll from impact. On the front page, Orihime's face looked back at him.

On impulse he grinned back at the photo, and then frowned.

"'Pretty New Face Takes Pie Auction Record'," he read from the headline. It was a picture of Orihime standing on the stage, smiling at the audience, a non-posed picture caught by the local paper's photographer. There were more, smaller photos accompanying the story, some of them of the audience – the men and teens – bidding on the winning pie, a few others of the auction contestants.

And, one of Renji speaking with the auctioneer as Orihime smiled back at him.

Renji gritted his teeth until he felt guilty at scowling at her photo. To one side of the story, another column held an announcement on the first day of school for the high school and registration reminders.

He looked again to the photo of the audience. Even in the grainy black and white of the photos Renji could see the livid fascination of the males in the audience.

He carefully rolled the newspaper into a tighter roll and headed for the kitchen. After the scene with Dan – and Dan's lack of memory for it – and Orihime's bird-clenching moment, Renji felt the uncertainties mount around him.

"Are you sure you want to go to school here?"

Orihime had just set a jug of ice tea in the kitchen window the steep while they were gone. "Yes." She turned as he set the paper on the table, the photo inside the roll. "Why?"

He shrugged, watching her hands clasp before her as her face took on a hopeful look. For a moment Renji was caught between admitting that the bird issue might be something more problematic, that it might resurface and become something he couldn't ignore.

That was why he was there, he reminded himself; to report these kinds of things.

To turn her in as a Hollow-in-progress.

He shook his head. Maybe it was just because the orange vials she was taking were the intermission phase, the little misstep of the bird incident was because she was in the lull of the protocol. The red vials, he thought, those were back to the real treatment. That would clear up anything faltering in Orihime's system.

There was nothing to put in a report.

He crossed the room and took her hands in his, kissing her lips quickly. "Just making sure, Orihime."

She smiled. "I'll go take my vial and then we can get breakfast?"

He nodded. It would give him a few moments to clean up their dinner from the night before outside. "Sure. Hurry back."

She nodded and skipped off and up the staircase.

Within minutes they were in the truck, heading for Grundy.

* * *

Ten minutes after Renji and Orihime had left, Szayel was in Reese's form and picking the lock on the back door. He'd tried to get the handyman's help, but Reese had been more stubborn this time than usual and wouldn't find the keys for the rental house for him. As a result, Reese's hand was now minus one finger.

Szayel grew frustrated with the cumbersomeness of using Reese's newly pinky fingerless-hand to pick the lock. He'd already bled a few drops onto the welcome mat, but it was a black rubber mat and wouldn't be noticed. Even so he made a mental note to wipe those drops away on his way out.

The lock clicked and the backdoor to the house swung open. Szayel grinned and stepped into the kitchen.

"Stop your whining," he rumbled to Reese who was whimpering inside the skull. "I'll put your finger back on later; next time maybe you'll be more cooperative when I ask for something."

He looked around the room. It was clean, hot in the day's growing mugginess, and empty. By now Szayel knew the layout of the house and headed directly for Orihime's room. He passed Renji's bedroom, giving it a glimpse, seeing the katana in one corner, and continued on to the last bedroom he knew to hers. He eased open the partly shut door, making a note of the angle it was at, and went to the small dresser. In the top left drawer was the protocol kit.

He smiled as he lifted it out and carefully opened it. Most of the orange vials were empty. He'd replaced them with a similar colored liquid the last time he'd visited while Orihime and Renji were gone. He knew the mind of a researcher, whether it was that clown shinigami Kurotsuchi or that reprobate Urahara. In either case, the orange set would be intermediate doses – duds. It was the vials with the red liquid that interested him most now.

He held up one to the stronger light of the window.

From his pocket he withdrew a lamb vaccination syringe – Reese did have his handy moments and wouldn't be suspicious in asking for supplies at the feed store in town. Szayel estimated the red liquid inside.

The colors matched closely enough.


	16. Breaker and Bubbles

The trip to Grundy proved fruitful, and by the time lunch rolled around, Renji was up by four t-shirts and two pairs of jeans. There were a few other underclothing necessities he got, but those he'd picked out himself; Orihime had blushed carnation pink and ducked out of sight as soon as he held up the first pair of boxers at the department store.

They found a makeshift lunch of sweet potato French fries and sloppy bacon cheeseburgers from a fast food place before leaving town and headed back to Chesney Hollow via the scenic route, munching as they drove.

Renji figured the town's name was as good as any, considering why he and Orihime were there. She seemed to, too, as her gaze stayed on the welcome sign as they passed it on the edge of town. He watched her lick her thumb where the gooey burger had left a cheese trail.

"Do we have all my paperwork for school?" she asked, eyes on the high school as the truck passed it. They'd brought what documents Renji had to attempt enrolling her in school for the new year.

"Uh, yeah, I think so." He cleared his throat. His hand gripped the steering wheel tighter as he pushed back into the seat. "I think we've got enough to get you started. I thought Isane would be here with the rest, and another cell phone." He began looking for a place to turn the truck around. "If you feel like it, we can ask about getting you registered today."

"Now? Oh, yes!" She nodded, crumbling up her burger wrapper and collecting their garbage to put in the take-out bag. "But I can still start with the paperwork we have, right?"

He nodded despite his doubts. "I think so." He watched a few teens walking by on the street sidewalk as the school grounds dissolved into the junior high and elementary school further back. He had a stunted view of a large playground and a few basketball courts that separated the schools from each other. He turned onto the next side street and doubled back to the high school. "We've still got a few days before you actually start, so we'll see now about getting you registered."

"Today..." She was already nodding vigorously. "School starts in, hmm, six days for freshmen and seven for everyone else, I think...yes, that would be good."

He watched her hands roll the take-out bag into a tight knot. Her knuckles were white with the pressure, but that was it; it wasn't the same strength or intention she'd used on the small bird in the backyard. Her gaze shifted from a few teens passing on the opposite side of the street back to him. She smiled wider, and then scooted as close to him as her seat belt would allow.

He draped his arm behind her along the back of the seat top. At least she hadn't opted to sit on the farthest side of the truck this time. She settled to his side, careful of his irritated ribs.

The truck pulled into the school parking lot moments later and both Renji and Orihime looked to the few straggling teens at the school's front entry. Renji parked the truck and they got out.

Inside the school it was slightly cooler than outside in the later summer's blazing heat, but the doors were propped open, letting the air exchange until it managed to be cool and humid in the building.

Orihime didn't recognize any of the teens milling around the brick and block interior of the school, and most were wearing practice clothing for football. She noted Renji gave each player a caustic, promissory look that withered a few of the stoutest. As a collective, the male teens ambled back toward the gym and locker room deeper inside the halls.

"What are you going to do while I'm at school, Renji?" she asked in a low tone as he escorted her to the modest front offices. She smiled more as his arm hooked around her back. "Are you...oh. Can you stay in shinigami form?"

He knew the answer was no, but he shrugged, which irritated his busted side. "I'll figure something out. I know I shouldn't, not with your protocol, but I'm not leaving you here to these catcalling vultures by yourself."

As if to emphasize this, an appreciative whistle echoed down the hallway where the football team had disappeared.

Renji snapped a threatening look in that direction, but Orihime's hand over his at her hip made him swallow down a return retort to the unseen whistler. "Maybe you could enroll, too."

He laughed, which hurt his side. "Yeah, and get us both in trouble for harboring a minor without parental permission or some bullshit like that."

She giggled a little, her smile taking a flirty hint. "I don't think that's a real crime, Renji."

He nearly stopped walking. "What?"

She hadn't stopped walking, but his hand at her hip made his arm extend until she reached back and tugged on the front of his t-shirt. "I meant, you harbor _criminals_; not minors."

She smiled more, cheeks flushing as her fingers trailed down his t-shirt until he started walking again. This time his arm settled around her waist firmer, his fingers finding one of the belt hoops at her waistband. "...Something like that."

The deep rumble of a man clearing his throat for emphasis came from one of the doorways to an open office they passed. Both Renji and Orihime looked there. A tall, thin man standing with his arms crossed was giving them a tolerant look.

"No PDA in the halls, please," he said, giving them each a sharp look. Despite his long plaid shorts and yellow polo shirt, he attempted a stern demeanor. "I'm Vice Principal Miller. Are you two new here?"

By the man's sheer disapproving frown alone, Renji let his arm slip looser around Orihime. The man was too old to be a student, he knew, and the label _vice_ had to mean something, he figured. "Yes, we're registering her for classes this fall."

The man nodded, smiling a bit more. "Just straight ahead, fella." He gave Orihime a longer glimpse and this time his smile was genuine. "Oh, you're Miss Pie Winner, aren't you?"

Orihime glanced up at Renji and nodded, and then bowed slowly at the man until Renji made her straighten. "Yes. I'm Orihime Jones."

Renji glanced to her quickly. "Oh, you're Americanizing the sound, too?"

For a moment she only stared back at him, and then slowly she dug out one of her papers and flipped to the documentation showing her name. "Oh, uh, yes," she said, giggling and nodding, uncertain. "Yes, Aunt Una thought it would be better. For teachers."

Miller looked between them for a moment, and Renji prodded Orihime toward the office doorway where an older woman's voice was coming.

"It's easier than Junosuke," he told the man, giving what he hoped was a dismissive wave.

Miller stood straighter. "Do you have paperwork for that?"

Renji nodded, following Orihime. "Yup. Sure do. Got it all."

With that he and Orihime entered the office and found themselves in line behind two teens and a frustrated mother shifting through a mound of papers on the counter.

"...and birth certificate," the woman behind the counter was saying. "Notarized."

Renji didn't like the sound of it. He looked to Orihime to find her looking up at him with large and hopeful eyes. She stood on tiptoe and whispered into his ear, "We have what we need, right, Renji?"

He nodded, sort of. "Enough to get you started."

Orihime looked around at the wilted potted plants of the small, crowded office as they waited. She was none too sure of their paperwork, but trusted Renji. He was a vice captain in the Gotei 13, after all.

After ten minutes of waiting later behind the decidedly overheated teens and mother, the short line moved, and Orihime and Renji stood before the counter. The woman behind it had her hair up in a tired bun and glasses that drooped to the tip of her nose, but she perked a smile when she saw Orihime.

"Well, well, the pie winner, right, darlin'?" she said, taking the papers as soon as Orihime let them rest on the counter. "That musta been one scrumptious pie."

She glanced at Renji when she said it. He nodded, grinning.

The grin made some of the woman's suspicions raise, but her gaze went to the papers. "Orihime, is it?"

"Yes, ma'am." Orihime leaned slightly over the counter. "Grade twelve."

"Uh-huh." The woman shifted through the papers, nodding. "And from Japan." She sent another glance to Renji. "I see..."

Renji waited for any sign of problem.

The woman nodded, making her bun sag as she read the few documents the Fourth Division had created for Orihime's use. "There seems to be a few items missing. Do you have a current immunization card on you, darlin'?"

Orihime shook her head slowly, leaning back, where her ponytail brushed Renji's chin. She turned to look up at him. "Do...Does Aunt Una have a current immunization card?"

"I need _yours_, darlin'," the woman said, smiling until her face creased pleasantly. "Not your aunt's."

A shout and a few laughs from the hall made everyone in the office look to the glass wall dividing the office from the main hall. The football team jogged by, shoving and horse-playing.

Renji reached for his back pocket out of habit, wishing he could make just one last call to Soul Society about paperwork. "We don't have that on us, at the moment," he said in his most diplomatic tone. "Can she register now and bring that later?"

The woman looked back to Orihime, who gave her her best smile. "Hmm, well..."

A sudden flocking of the football team back down the outer hall in retreat and a whoosh of _oh, shit_ made them all look to the athletes. Every muscle shirt-clad teen was hurrying back down to the gym corridor, glancing behind them like Renji had seen fleeing people try to look at the commotion a Hollow caused. Instinctively he felt for the ring on his finger.

But then another force joined the whoosh, and both Orihime and Renji felt the unadulterated waft of reiatsu an eye-patch-less gigai made, even inside one of Kurotsuchi's best sealed gigais.

The doorway darkened and then Kenpachi Zaraki stepped into and through it, eclipsing the light from the other side. He grinned at the office occupants, sending the mother and two teens scurrying to the far end of the counter and making the woman attending Orihime blanch two shades paler.

"Hi, 'Hime-cousin!" Yachiru said as she wriggled in through the only spot not occupied by her guardian. She wore a pair of pink shorts and a ruffled yellow tank top, her pink hair pulled up in a spiky ponytail. "We found you!"

Renji stood stunned looking back at the mountain of a captain who now wore the largest Harley-Davidson "Die Like Hell" t-shirt ever made. His jeans barely contained him and the chain belt threaded through the waistband was actually functional. Three highest bells knocked the ceiling as his hair points rubbed the dust from overhead. His glare and grin settled on Orihime.

"Gotchyer paperwork, Orihime," he rumbled, making pencils jump on the counter.

She smiled nervously, pressing her back to Renji as Zaraki held up a _Hello Kitty_ backpack. "Oh, th-thank you."

"Uncle Kenny-san to the rescue!" Yachiru chirped, tugging on Orihime's shorts cuff. "Show 'em your stuff, Kenny-san!"

At that, the teens and mother fled the office through the narrow spot of open doorway and the woman at the counter stuttered for words.

"N-Not here, s-sir," she said as mannered as she could.

"Excuse me," came Miller's muffled tone from behind the Harley t-shirt. He stepped around Zaraki and looked far up at him. "Can I help you?"

"I'm here for her." Zaraki pointed a finger at Orihime.

"Uncle Kenny," Renji said, ready for the wrath of an unnamed sword if he got the term wrong, "you've got Orihime's school documents?"

Zaraki looked far down at Miller, nodding, breathing heavily. "Who's this?"

"Vice Principal Miller," Renji said. "He runs this place. School."

Miller nodded, beginning to wilt as much as the potted plants. "Paperwork?" He glanced to Orihime. "Oh, good. I'm sure all is in order." He snapped his fingers at the woman at the counter. "Hurry these people along, Millie."

The woman named Millie nodded and shuffled Orihime's papers, not taking her eyes from Zaraki. "Good. Well...bring the rest when you can. Okay, darlin'?" she said to Orihime.

Renji grinned and looked to Millie. "We'll get everything in by the first day of class."

"Good. Good." Millie nodded, still looking at Zaraki as he hovered over the counter, shading Orihime's paperwork and two nearby computers. "That will be fine."

* * *

Two tight squeezes later and the three shinigami and Orihime were back outside on the sidewalk under the elm trees at the school's front. The football team doing their afternoon laps around the block went into a round of collisions as they passed the sidewalk at the school front, their murmurs of astonishment enough to drown out any catcall or whistle, Renji figured.

"Come on! Let's go back to the playground!" Yachiru said, grabbing Orihime's hand and pumping it as she hopped in place. "Some of the swings still work! Come on! I'll race you!"

Yachiru turned to race off, but Zaraki grabbed her shirt back and held her from moving.

"We can play later, Bubbles. Right now we have other stuff to do." He released her shirt and she stayed put.

Orihime glanced from him to the girl. "The playground? You've been there already?"

Yachiru nodded nearly too fast to see. "Kenny-san set the slide back up!"

Renji didn't ask about it. He looked to his former captain instead. "They sent you? I thought it would be Captain Unohana."

"Yeah, well, Yachiru wanted to see the place." Zaraki shrugged a large sigh. "She's never been to the material world."

Renji glanced around for their vehicle, expecting a long and lazy chopper. There was none. "Did you drive here?"

"We had a taxi-man drive us." Yachiru giggled and grabbed Orihime's hand, swinging it in excitement. "I get to be Bubbles. Who do you want to be?"

"Me?" Orihime looked to Renji in confusion. "Well..."

Zaraki groaned. "She was watching TV for two days at a mall showroom." He gave Renji a look that dared the red-haired shinigami to crack a joke.

Renji didn't. "So no ride. I guess you're coming home with us." He wasn't sure, but it looked to him like a flicker of disappointment went through Orihime's face. But she hid it and knelt to Yachiru.

"Bubbles, hm? Well, let me think..." Orihime said, straightening the turned ruffle on the girl's collar.

"Buttercup or Flowerpot," Yachiru said. "Those are the last two left. Which do you want to be?"

Renji nodded and they all started to the truck, which was beginning to look a little on the small side as Zaraki neared it. "Thanks for bringing Orihime's school documents."

"Yeah." Zaraki nodded, sending a somewhat guilty look to the playground.

Orihime and Renji followed his gaze. Even from their distance they could see several swings hanging by one chain and a broken teeter-totter, and one of the slides looked slightly warped, like it had a new bend in its shiny surface.

"Remind me to leave a token of our appreciation for the school system," Zaraki said as he reached the truck and almost yanked the passenger side door off to open it.

Renji winced at the screeching sound of metal under the large captain's hand. "Appreciation?" The word didn't sound right coming from Zaraki.

"That's what Unohana-san called it." Zaraki gestured to Orihime and she obediently climbed into the truck. "Said to make it an anonymous donation...for the playground. And she wants to talk to you."

Renji settled behind the steering wheel, enjoying Orihime pressed tightly to his side as she made room for Zaraki in the passenger seat. They felt the truck use every inch of strut and shock under its new cargo weight. Yachiru climbed on top of Zaraki's thigh and leaned to Orihime.

"You can't be Flowerpot," she decided. "I forgot she's not one of the _Powerpuff Girls_. You can be Buttercup or Blossom. I'm Bubbles."

Orihime nodded, trying to play along. "Okay."

"Give her some time to think about it," Zaraki said, pulling Yachiru back upright as the truck pulled onto the street and headed out of town. "Damn bumblebee girls. Had to watch seventeen hours straight of that anime at the mall. They got easy chairs there. Sleep right in the damn things." He gave Orihime a large smile. "You got a TV screen at your place?"

She nodded, recoiling a bit. "Oh, yes." She glanced to Yachiru. "How long are you staying?"

Renji wanted to know, too. He spared a look at Zaraki.

"'Til tomorrow. Probably." He leaned a meaty arm on the open window edge as the truck rounded a mountainous curve. "Everything okay with you two?"

Renji and Orihime nodded in unison.

"Good." Zaraki's nearest eye zeroed-in on Orihime. "Trying to get rid of us already?"

She shook her head quickly. "Oh, no, but I was thinking," she said, letting her fingers tickle at the hem of Yachiru's shorts, "my friend has some horses and she sometimes lets us ride. Maybe she has a pony..."

Yachiru nearly shunpo-ed a pivot to see Zaraki, standing on his thigh to see eye to eye. "Can I have a pony ride?"

He cast Orihime an accusatory look.

She smiled, leaning a bit more to Renji at her side as she looked up at the captain. "I can call my friend and see if she has time."

Renji took the moment to tilt his face to Orihime's ear. "What are you doing?" he asked lowly as Yachiru chatted glibly to Zaraki about ponies.

Orihime turned to see him better, focusing on the tattoos at his neck as he looked back to the road. "I thought she'd like it. Is it okay?"

Renji weighed through the idea. Keeping Yachiru happy had been tantamount to staying alive in the Eleventh Division when he was there. He doubted much had changed. "Sure." He looked to Zaraki, recalling what he'd said about the mall. "Uh, how long have you been here?"

"Three days."

"Six days!" Yachiru countered.

Zaraki gave a stony but guilty look to the road ahead as Renji turned the truck onto their road.

A submerged ringing sound came from Zaraki's direction, and he took a moment to find his cell phone. With unpracticed indelicacy, he opened it and answered it.

Unohana's tone shot through the truck cab. "...ignoring me, Captain Zaraki. These are things I need to know. I've been trying to reach you for..."

Zaraki handed the phone to Renji as the truck turned into the driveway to their farmhouse. "It's for you, Abarai."

Renji took it and made a clumsy entrance up the driveway and parked beside the house. "Hello?"

* * *

Renji was left to deal with a very vocal Unohana as Orihime ushered their guests into the house. She knew she was supposed to wait for Renji to check out the premises whenever they came back home, but she figured she was just as safe with Zaraki. She only caught a few words from Renji's phone conversation and his continual nodding as he waved them on to the upper floor from the kitchen.

"A week ago?" he said into the phone, giving Zaraki's hulking back a skeptical look. "They just got here..."

Orihime heard Renji's voice fade beneath the creak of steps as Zaraki and Yachiru followed her up the staircase in the heat of the late afternoon. She also heard the large captain's shoulders rub on either side of the staircase walls and the small vice captain's non-stop giggle-chatter. Orihime didn't stop as they reached the landing and entered the hall that ran the length of the upstairs.

"This is Renji's bedroom," she said, gesturing to the first bedroom as she backed down the hallway. "And the bathroom and the spare room, for you."

"Where's your bedroom?" Yachiru wanted to know.

Orihime turned and waved to her open bedroom doorway.

"Good! We're neighbors!" Yachiru looked back into the room Isane had used. "Ooh, such a small bed, Kenny-san."

"Good enough," Zaraki said, nodding at the room. He tossed the small backpack to land by the bed. "She needs a bath."

Orihime was already nodding as she glanced down to the small shinigami who lunged after the backpack. Yachiru had every zipper unzipped nearly before the bag landed. "Do you mind if I help you –?"

"With bubbles!" Yachiru cried, flinging out assorted clothing, including one large spare Harley t-shirt that was half the size of the bed.

Zaraki leaned to Orihime as she clutched the doorframe in surprise at his nearness. "You got bath bubbles?"

"Oh, yes," she said, nodding as he grinned.

"Good." He turned and headed back down the hallway. "Abarai! You got your reports done, vice captain?"

Orihime breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed, sagging against the doorframe.

"Come on – hey, which one do you want to be?" Yachiru asked, grabbing Orihime's hand and towing her to the bathroom. In her other arm was a bundle of _Hello Kitty_ pajamas and other frillies. "Buttercup or Blossom? Can I sleep with you tonight? Like a sleepover? Kenny snores like a...oh, I'm not supposed to use that word."

They reached the bathroom and Orihime let the small girl enter first as she thought of another word. "Buzzsaw?" Orihime offered, looking around at the fogginess from the heat already hanging on the mirror over the sink. "Or maybe a freight train?"

"Like a hammerjack," Yachiru decided. She sniffed. "I smell peaches."

Orihime ran the water into the bathtub as the girl speed-stripped down to her gigai. "Peach bubble bath, okay?"

In the kitchen downstairs, Renji had strong-armed/bribed the local pizza place into delivering, provided he ordered five pizzas, which he did. To tie Zaraki over until the delivery arrived, he brought out every two-liter of cola he could find. He didn't offer any of Orihime's pie – not yet – and left it in the refrigerator.

Zaraki sat at the table and watched Renji set the cola, glasses, and two bags of potato chips down. "So what's the report, Abarai? Any news?"

"No, sir." Renji sat down, not looking at the captain.

Zaraki snapped the twist-top off one two liter of cola and took a swig from the damaged spout. "You sure?"

Renji shook his head, unscrewing the other two liter and pouring himself a glass full. He slid another glass to Zaraki. "Yes. Nothing wrong here."

Zaraki glanced to the glass without any interest in using it. "You sure? 'Cause it would be easy to overlook the wrong in a pretty face."

"Nothing wrong."

As if to counter the answer, Zaraki set a new cell phone on the table. "That's your back-up. I'm supposed to take any reports back to Captain Unohana."

"Uh, yeah, about that." Renji flipped the phone open and pressed the _on_ button to ensure it worked. It did. "She said you left Soul Society a week ago."

Zaraki grumbled a deep sound. "...Got lost. The permission – lease – ran out on the car we had, so we took a taxi here. Figured the driver would know how to get here." He took another long drink from the two liter and belched. "Been at the mall most of the time."

Renji grinned at the idea of Zaraki and Yachiru at any mall.

Zaraki nodded to the ceiling as sounds of splashing and giggling came from above. "I got all the girl's stuff for school. How's the schedule going?"

"She's till on the protocol. Everything's fine."

Zaraki leaned a forearm on the table and the support legs strained and groaned. An unusually grave tone came to his voice. "Is she a Hollow, Abarai?"

"No, sir." Renji held the large man's intent stare. "The whole procedure isn't over yet, but no, she's not a Hollow."

"Hmm..." Zaraki looked around the room. The summer sun was falling quickly into early evening, holding in the heat to the farmhouse, making breathing thick and heavy.

Renji stood up and flicked the fan to the highest setting.

Zaraki's bells tinkled at the breeze.

Renji moved the fan a bit so as not to blast straight onto the captain. "So, about this appreciation for the playground thing...?"

Zaraki scowled. "Damn slide almost folded right up."

Renji figured an anonymous donation to the Chesney District Schools was in order. He was about to try shifting the discussion to something else, something that didn't involve the very reason he was there to observe Orihime, but a large splash and laughter from above made them both look up.

"She's giving Yachiru a bath," Zaraki said, belching again.

Renji was on his feet before he could think of a reason to explain his sudden anxiety. Visions of the small bird's frail form being crushed by Orihime's fingers flashed through his mind. He bolted for the staircase.

"Where are you going?" Zaraki called.

Renji took the stairs two at a time, distressing thoughts at odds with each other as he tried to stifle his alarm at Orihime alone with the pink-haired girl.

The door to the bathroom was half open when he got there, and the two females inside were both at the tub. Renji swallowed painfully as he watched Orihime's hand close around a green frog-shaped sponge and squeeze the water from it back into the bubble-filled tub.

Yachiru was in the tub, up to her smile in bubbles, and with a swirly bubble hairdo on top her head. Orihime let the water dribble out of the sponge, smiling as she tufted Yachiru's hair into pink peaks at her temples, the peachy scent of bubbles floating through the humid room.

"Hey, Renji-kun," Yachiru said as she spotted him, moving to hang her arms over one side of the tub to look at him in the doorway. "She can make big, red swirlies out of your hair!"

Renji looked to Orihime, watching her fingers release the green sponge. She smiled back at him, a bit of soapy suds on one shoulder from Yachiru's antics.

"We left the door open because it's so hot in here," she explained. She rinsed the frog sponge in the water, bringing a giggle from Yachiru as the sponge nudged her side. "It might take a while to get her all rinsed clean, Renji."

He nodded, leaning against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest as Orihime gave him a softer smile. A wave of guilt chided him at thinking she could ever do anything malicious to the pink-haired girl making a soapy beard at her chin. "Yeah, well, we've got pizzas coming, so don't stay in until you're all pruny, Bubbles."

Yachiru stood up at the word pizza, but immediately lost her footing and slipped into the tub. A slosh of bubbly water drenched Orihime.

And in all the right spots, Renji thought.

Orihime sat back, gasping at the soaking.

Renji enjoyed the shirt-sticking for a moment, until Orihime looked to him with chagrin. "Uh, here you go," he said, out of obligation, and stepped in to toss her a towel from the open shelf near the door. He pulled the door half-shut, fighting the urge to leave it all the way open – for heat's sake.

"Thanks," Orihime called.

"Pizza!" Yachiru chanted. "Pizza! Pizza!"

Renji remained on the other side of the half-closed door, images of Orihime's shirt sticking to her replacing those of the bird being crushed lifeless.

"Let's get you dried off," he heard her say to Yachiru. Sounds of water dripping followed, and then a moment later, Orihime appeared at the door.

She held the towel to her chest, her hair dampened and a bit bubble-laden in spots. She smiled at him and looked down the hall. "She'll be done in a minute."

He nodded, picking a clinging bubble from her bangs that clung to one cheek as her face turned back to him. "Looks like we've got company for a few days."

She nodded, watching the bubble pop in his fingers. "That's okay, right?"

He nodded, and then kissed her lips lightly. "It'll have to be."

She leaned more out from behind the door and kissed him back, lingering for just a moment. "We'll be down in a few minutes."

"All right." He didn't move away, wanting a longer kiss, something that would have to last him a day or two, but stepped back away from the door. "Hurry down."


End file.
